Purity 4: Justification
by Sueric
Summary: Brother and Sister. Father and Daughter. Two worlds collide in a familiar place. Four destines are decided in an instant. Welcome to a battle of wills. Purity Continuation.
1. Unforgettable

**_Chapter 1_**

**_Unforgettable_**

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He drew a deep breath before stepping out of the shadows on stage left in the stillness of the auditorium. He hadn't expected this magnitude of a turn out, and he had to admit that it was daunting. Quiet, introverted, he much preferred the tranquility of his house on the rocky shores of the Maine coast. Damn family friends and their penchant for laying on a guilt trip. If he hadn't answered the phone that day, he wouldn't be standing here now.

Clearing his throat as he approached the podium, situated center-stage in the wash of harsh lighting that made him feel wary, guarded, Cain had to wonder once more, just why he'd given in and come here. It smacked of stupidity, and it smacked of recklessness. Someone had left him a bottle of water. He wondered how bad it would look if he drained it before he even started to speak.

He could hear every hushed whisper, every body that shifted in the folding seats, every rustle of paper as the assembly waited patiently to hear his words of wisdom. '_The worst feeling isn't the complete vulnerability of being in the open,_' he mused as he gripped the podium. '_It's not being able to see the enemy_.'

Enemy?

Snorting inwardly at his own cryptic thoughts, he realized it had been just a little too long since he'd been the absolute center of attention. It was a conscious decision to leave it all behind. He hadn't made any sort of public appearance in years. _She_ had been the one who loved the spotlight. He'd always preferred to stay behind the scenes, and in the end, he supposed it had added to his legend.

"Good afternoon," he began, his soft tones picked up and enhanced by the single microphone on the podium. "I'm Cain Zelig, and I want to thank you for inviting me to lecture."

Though it had been more years than he cared to think about since he had last used the Japanese language, he didn't falter as he launched into the prepared speech. Eyes adjusting to the blackened auditorium past the edge of the harshly lit stage, faces came into focus despite the lights that almost blinded him. Gaze roaming over the crowd of college students, seeing the blur of rapt expressions, he cleared his throat and continued with his lecture.

"The act of sculpting is, in and of itself, an act of love and devotion. If you believe in God, Buddha, Allah, or Kami, then you will find that taking the clay in your hands and forming it into something beautiful or grotesque, or even something between those two extremes, is like molding the universe, even if it is only a small portion of it."

His gaze continued to rove over the silent assembly. They looked so young, so full of possibilities that had yet to be explored. Shining youth, the hope of children who didn't realize that life could be cruel . . . Some humans held to that idyllic belief their whole life through, but he knew that wasn't so. He knew . . .

Something caught his eye; a flash of light in the darkness to the far left of the stage. The reflection of silver in the loathsome black . . . Cain narrowed his gaze but he did not falter in his speech. Pausing to sip the water, he breathed in, smelled her . . . Faint and mingled with the baser scent of the countless humans surrounding her, there was something about her that seemed familiar.

Squelching the irrational wash of impatience, Cain deliberately allowed himself another long drink of the water. He couldn't see her face but he could see her eyes---golden, glowing, curious and warm. Three rows back, she sat next to another woman but she, alone, captured his attention.

'_Inu . . . hanyou? Who is she?_'

Setting the water aside, Cain cleared his throat, sought to regain the composure she'd unwittingly taken from him. "In order to create art, you must reach deep inside yourself, extract the emotion in your soul---"

He could feel those golden eyes staring straight at him.

"---Apply it to the clay or the paint or whatever medium you choose---"

How old was she, to contain such intensity? He could feel her gaze; a palpable thing that lived and breathed.

His lecture rambled on. He's spent painstaking hours learning the words by heart. Forcing his eyes over the expanse of the auditorium, he tried to tell himself that he was being ridiculous. She was just some young girl, and by this time tomorrow, he'd be back in his seclusion half a world away . . .

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Izayoi Gin slipped into the vacant seat on the end of the third row in the drafty auditorium. She's almost missed the lecture, no thanks to her baka brother. Kichiro had promised to drop her off at the college since her car was in the shop and since their parents were taking a short vacation at the beach house. Kichiro had overslept, woke up grouchy, and then yelled at her for letting him sleep in. '_Baka. I should have taken the bus_.'

Digging out a notebook and pen while Brekichi-sensei, the head of the Fine Arts department of the university, introduced the guest speaker, Gin rolled her shoulders and licked her lips in anticipation. Zelig Cain was arguably the most influential sculptor in the world, and he was here, at her university, giving a lecture . . . If she had missed this because of that idiot brother of hers, she would have made him pay, and dearly.

She knew that he had been called eccentric, reclusive. She'd never seen a photograph of the enigmatic man. He didn't attend any of his openings, never had been spotted at any of his gallery showings. Gin absorbed art publications like some people---her cousin Shippou came to mind---devoured pocky. Zelig Cain's paintings and his sculptures were astounding. How he managed to capture so much feeling with his work was something that baffled Gin's mind.

She wanted to do that, too.

After graduating from school, she had gone to work for her cousin, Toga as a receptionist while she tried to decide what she wanted to do with her life. The time she'd spent doing that had convinced her she would never, ever be able to deal with a nine-to-five job. She'd left Toga's company after a year to work at the Edo-Tokyo Museum, and in that time, she had discovered a love of fine art and had developed a fascination for Zelig-san's work during one of his temporary exhibits. Since then, she'd looked for any and all information she could find on the reclusive artist. She'd written him countless letters but had been too much of a coward to send even one. '_Kami . . . if Papa knew_ . . .'

Gin grimaced and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, flicking her long silver hair over her shoulder as she bit her bottom lip. Izayoi InuYasha hated cowards. Gin knew that. To admit to being afraid . . . that would be the greatest letdown. He had taught all of his children early on that fear was not something a hanyou should admit, not ever.

And, to that end, she supposed, he'd also gone out of his way to show his children his love and affection, even if it was never spoken, and even if it was, more often than not, the exact opposite of what he said. InuYasha might be the first one to point out to his children when they'd done something colossally stupid, but he was also the first one to stand up for his children, right or wrong. Truthfully, Gin was more of a Papa's girl than a Mama's girl. She always felt safe around her father, and while Kagome was kind and gentle, loving and doting, InuYasha had always been Gin's security.

In fact, the only thing they _didn't_ agree on was the subject of Gin going on dates, which was completely stupid, really, since Gin was nearly twenty-five now. Maybe she shouldn't have taken those three years off before going to college. Then again, it might not have mattered. In his mind, Gin would always be his little girl, and she had a feeling that no man would ever quite measure up.

An expectant hush fell over the crowd. Normally these kinds of lectures only drew art students. This one was special. Television and radio stations had sent reporters. The auditorium held a near capacity-crowd today, and with the exception of the one empty seat beside her, Gin didn't think there were any other seats to be had. If it weren't for her hanyou senses, she might have had to stand at the back of the auditorium with the other late arrivals. Her sight was good, and her sense of smell was keen. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that there were two seats left vacant, and she hadn't questioned her luck that they were also very close to the stage.

"Gin? Hi! Is that seat taken?"

Gin started out of her reverie and sat up straight to allow her cousin-in-law to scoot past her. Slipping into the one vacant seat, Inutaisho Sierra flipped back a lock of her strawberry blonde hair and dug out the small cd recorder.

Talk was cut short when the man stepped out of the darkness behind the curtains. Tall---very tall---possibly taller than Uncle Sesshoumaru, the man shuffled toward the podium in somewhat nervous fashion. Hands jammed into the pockets of his baggy, rumpled khaki slacks, pushing up the sides of the shapeless black cotton shirt, he should have looked hapless, slovenly. He seemed more casual than careless, and the long bronze hair caught back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck flipped from side to side as he sauntered forward.

'_He's . . . youkai_ . . .' Gin thought as her gaze narrowed. With the convolution of scents and the mass of people so close to her, it was too hard for her to discern what kind of youkai he was. She sat up straighter, clasped her notebook to her chest as she frowned in concentration.

"Good afternoon. I'm Cain Zelig, and I want to thank you for inviting me to lecture."

His voice was a low, soft rumble that rushed over her like a gentle breeze. The melodic quality of his timbre was soothing, mesmerizing. '_Stop it! Listen to what he's saying, Gin! You're acting . . . well, you're acting like . . . Kich . . . or Ryo_ . . .'

Why was it that the thought of her equally idiotic twin brothers was like a dousing of cold water on her senses?

Dropping her notebook onto her lap while she rubbed the gooseflesh off her arms, Gin frowned into the darkness. She didn't know anything about him except that his artwork was exquisite. She respected his work, the intricacy, the detail. He was youkai just like any youkai---just like any man. They were all fallible. They were all imperfect.

The notebook started to slip from her lap. Gin leaned forward to catch it. Zelig-san faltered in his speech, and for a brief, crazed moment as she sat back up and bit her lip, pushing back her slight discomfort; she had the strangest feeling that he was staring straight at her.

But he had only paused to sip the water that had been left on the podium for him. Continuing with his speech, he seemed to shed the obvious discomfort as he spoke. His voice took on a gentler cadence, a softer quality as his stance relaxed, and he grinned just a little.

Gin didn't realize her hand was moving against the tablet of paper, didn't pay attention to the bold lines of the black ink pen. Capturing the lines of the man's stance, his expression, she digested what he said as his likeness came to life on the paper.

Jumping when the polite applause broke out in the auditorium, Gin hurriedly shoved the notebook and pen into her bag as she stifled the sigh of disappointment that the lecture was over. Zelig-san bowed his head then raised his hand in a farewell gesture before shoving his hand into his pocket and shuffling back off the stage again.

"That was fantastic!" Sierra remarked as she gathered her things together and stood up, hitching her bag over her shoulder with a bright smile. "He really is something, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Gin agreed, wondering for a moment whether Sierra had seen the sketch that was now safe in her own backpack. She sighed. "Sierra, can I get a copy of that cd? If it isn't too much trouble . . ."

Sierra waved her hand. "Not a problem at all. I thought you were taking notes."

"Yeah . . . there were a few things I didn't quite catch," Gin explained, hoping she didn't sound nearly as lame as she thought she did.

Sierra's grin took on a smug edge. "I can do that . . . I can do something else, too, if you're interested . . ."

"What?"

"I don't know how, but I got an interview with Mr. Zelig. You want to meet him?"

"How? He doesn't give interviews . . . why you?"

Sierra shrugged. "Apparently Toga knows him . . . at least, knows _of_ him. Toga said he's never really met him before. Anyway, you interested?"

'_It's because Toga will be the next Inu no Taisho_,' Gin realized with a start. She tended to forget that the Inutaisho and Izayoi names carried a lot of weight in certain circles since she had been raised around mostly humans. '_It's because Zelig-san is youkai_ . . .'

Gin winced. "I have a class . . ."

Sierra sighed. "All right, but you know, if I was given the chance to meet one of my real-life idols, I'd jump at it."

Gin slapped the back of one hand into her other palm, shifting her lips into a grimace as she tried to rationalize it in her head. Art appreciation was her next class, and it was nothing, really, but theory and bookwork that she could easily make up with minimal effort. Since it was a Friday, then she would have all weekend to do it, too, and the idea of actually getting to meet Zelig-san . . . It was too enticing to ignore.

"Are you sure it won't be a problem?" she asked, half-hoping that Sierra would rescind the offer, half-hoping that it wasn't just a joke at her expense.

Sierra laughed. "Come on, Gin! You _know_ you want to."

Gin finally broke into a smile, letting Sierra take her arm and drag her toward the stage through the wandering masses making their ways to the exits.

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"Zelig-san! Thank you again for agreeing to speak today," Mitsu Brekichi said with a low bow as Cain stepped into the shadows off the stage.

"You're very welcome," Cain assured him as he offered the man a small smile. "If you'll excuse me, I've an interview and then a plane to catch."

"If you could spare a moment? I'd like to offer you a job. Just one semester . . . one of our art professors is having serious health problems, and we would be honored if you could fill the position."

Cain shook his head slowly. "I don't think I can," he said, measuring his words carefully.

The little man looked positively crestfallen. "Should you change your mind, the offer stands."

That wouldn't be happening, as far as Cain was concerned. Still he pasted on a tolerant smile and strode away from the head of the art department, heading directly to the doors at the back of the building as he pulled the slightly rumpled pack of Marlboro Reds from his pants pocket.

With a sigh as he leaned against the brick wall outside, Cain shook out a cigarette and lit it. Until last week, he hadn't smoked in years. Stress, he discovered, had a way of making him reach for old vices, and the idea of being in an unfamiliar environment . . . He blew a smoke ring, watched it disintegrate into the air before drawing another deep drag off the cigarette. He'd smoked more than two cartons of the damn things since he'd agreed to this stupid lecture.

'_Bellaniece is going to kill me, if she finds out_.'

Narrowing his eyes as he stared at the parking lot reserved for faculty, brushing aside the feeling of déjà vu that returning to Tokyo always inspired, Cain tried not to think about the reasons he'd left in the first place . . . the reasons he'd vowed long ago that he would never, ever return.

He was tired, weary. He'd seen enough, done enough, lived enough---lived longer than he should have. He should have died long ago, and had it not been for Bellaniece not to mention his responsibilities, he would have, but Bellaniece was just an infant back then. He couldn't have left her alone, and now . . .

The sudden flash of bright golden eyes made him pause---made him smile. He'd never know who she was. A flash of guilt, the harsh reminder that his life had been promised to another, accompanied the thought. He was living on _her_ time, borrowed his moments while _she_ waited.

The girl with the beautiful silvery hair . . .

Maybe it was better that he didn't know her name.

Dropping the cigarette onto the pavement, he ground the smoldering butt under his heel. With a deep breath, he strode toward the doors, yanked them open and headed down the hallway to the room where the interviewer was waiting.

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"You're making me nervous, Gin."

Shooting Sierra an apologetic look, Gin stalked around the classroom with the air of a caged animal. Nervous, edgy, she wiped her sweaty palms on her short blue skirt and stopped beside the sculpture on the table.

Sierra sucked in a quick breath and flinched. "Hey, I've got to run outside and throw some money into the parking meter . . . I'll be right back, okay?"

Gin nodded without answering as she stared at the sculpture. Sierra's shoes clicked against the linoleum floor as she hurried out of the room.

The sculpture seemed unfinished; a woman with flowing hair rising out of a nondescript block of white marble. Naked to the hips where she melded into the base of the sculpture, she seemed to be reaching for something that she couldn't quite grasp. Gin couldn't help but admire the beauty of the proportions, the absolute surreal quality of the intricate work. She'd seen pictures of it in books and magazines. It was one of the few sculptures that Zelig-san had never offered for sale. Because of that, the piece was worth more than most of his other sculptures. It seemed strange to her, that he would bring this all the way from his home in America when he was supposed to be returning soon enough. '_But why did he bring it with him?_'

As if in a trance, she touched the cold stone, tilting her head to the side as she traced a claw down the curves of the work, the intricacies of the lines. She could almost feel the love that went into the carving of such a meticulous piece. The stone seemed to have absorbed the very essence of the artist.

"Don't touch that!"

Gin gasped and jumped as she jerked her hand away from the sculpture. She hadn't realized that she had been touching it, not really. She certainly hadn't meant any offense to the man who was now glaring at her as though she had been trying to break the piece. And why did she feel like she was a little girl all over again, like she'd just been caught trying to sneak a cookie before dinner?

"S-sorry," she mumbled, bowing more to hide the hot flood of humiliated color that washed into her cheeks than as a show of respect. "It---I---uh---"

He sighed, dragging a hand over his face. "Are you the interviewer?"

His question caught her off-guard, and Gin blinked in confusion as she straightened her back. "Wha---no . . . She had to put money into the parking meter."

He shook his head slowly, still eyeing Gin as though he thought she was going to reach over, nab the sculpture, and toss it onto the floor. She scooted farther away. That seemed to appease him just a little. "Who are you then?"

"I'm, uh, Gin. Izayoi Gin. Sierra-is-my-cousin---Well-not-exactly-my-cousin---She-married-my-cousin-so-she's-my-cousin-by-marriage. She's-the-one-who-is-doing-the-interview-and---"

"Do you always talk so fast?"

"Just when I'm nervous."

"Why are you nervous?"

"B-because you're---" she swallowed hard, "---glaring at me."

He seemed surprised at her statement, as though he didn't realize he was still glaring. Shaking his head, he suddenly uttered a terse laugh. Gin blinked in surprise as the scowl dissipated, as his sapphire blue eyes sparkled with the change in expression. "I apologize. That sculpture . . . No one else touches it."

"You . . . you're inu-youkai."

He nodded slowly, leaning back against the desk as he crossed his arms over his chest. "And you're inu-hanyou."

Gin smiled. "I am."

"Izayoi? Your father . . . ?"

Gin stifled a sigh and nodded. "My father is Izayoi InuYasha. You've heard of him, I take it?"

"Of course I have. And your uncle? How is he?"

"You know Uncle Sesshoumaru, too? He's fine. They're all well."

"Good. It's been awhile. I never met your father, but your uncle and I go way back."

"Wait," Gin said slowly, gaze narrowing as she regarded the youkai before her, "you're the North American Inu no Taisho? The tai-youkai?"

He nodded again.

"But your name---"

His chuckles cut her off. "One cannot endure centuries, Gin, without having different names to keep from drawing notice."

She shrugged. "I suppose," she agreed noncommittally. "I guess it would seem strange if your public image had been around for hundreds of years."

"Don't worry. Cain Zelig suits my purposes."

Gin hopped up on the worktable behind her, crossing her ankles and leaning forward as she swung her feet. "I'm so glad you lectured today. I'm a huge fan of your work. You're the reason I decided I wanted to study art. They had an exhibit at the Edo-Tokyo Museum, and . . ." She broke off with a nervous laugh, shaking her head with a sigh. "Sounds silly, doesn't it?"

"Not at all. You're a student here?"

"Yes. I took a few years off . . . figured out I don't cut it in the real world."

He seemed startled, as though something she'd said surprised him. Slowly he nodded, a vague look of recognition lighting his gaze. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry I'm late," Sierra said as she hurried back into the room. "The meters around here only allow up to an hour . . . Anyway, I want to thank you for agreeing to this interview. I'm Sierra Inutaisho."

Almost reluctantly, Cain dragged his eyes off Gin. Smiling tightly, he shook Sierra's hand before gesturing for her to have a seat.

Gin sat back; content to listen to the interview. Soft spoken yet forceful, something about Cain Zelig commanded quiet respect. His gaze drifted to her a few times. Once he almost smiled at her. Gin bit her lip, tried to keep from fidgeting. If Sierra noticed, she didn't comment. Maybe Gin was imagining things.

He was fascinating.

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**_A/N_**:

_The start of this story and this chapter make me happy. I was hoping they'd make you all happy, too. While I can't promise updates since **Purity3: Forever** is my current project, I just wanted to share this, to dispel rumors of what **Purity 4: Justification **will be. While the joy of writing will never leave me, the joy of posting my writing does falter. This chapter, I'm posting for me, to prove to myself that I enjoy sharing my writing. I'm also posting it for the number of readers who love the stories and read but may not always review_.

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**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_Hook, line, and sinker _…

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_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize. _

_Sue_


	2. Meeting of the Minds

**_Chapter 2_**

**_Meeting of the Minds_**

* * *

"Morning, Kich." 

Izayoi Kichiro barely stopped long enough to glance at the receptionist as he strode through the office with a glower in place.

"Your first appointment is waiting for you in your- "

Slapping open the office door, Kichiro winced as the woman waiting inside jumped and whipped around. "D-doctor Izayoi?"

Fighting back a consternated sigh, Kichiro strode forward to rip the cigarette from the young woman's fingers before snubbing it out in the decorative crystal ashtray on his desk. "This is a medical office," he remarked in brusque English for the woman's benefit. "We ask that you don't smoke in here. Sets a bad example."

She regained her composure quickly enough as she slowly, deliberately pulled another cigarette from her purse and lit it. "Surely you can make an exception for me, Dr. Izayoi?"

Two things were apparent to Kichiro as he reached over and plucked that cigarette away, too. Firstly, the girl was hanyou. Secondly, she was trying to push him, but why? "What can I do for you, Miss - ?"

"Zelig," she supplied with a little grin. "But you can call me Belle, if you wish."

Kichiro nodded slowly, pushing his white lab coat aside as he jammed his hands into his pockets. "What can I do for you, Miss Zelig?"

Her little grin widened, her lush red lips parting just enough to offer him a flash of her perfectly straight white teeth. "I need some work done," she answered as she slowly shrugged off her the black silk jacket that covered most of her tiny black dress. "I hear you're the best."

Kichiro narrowed his gaze, let it roam up and down her slender frame. He had a feeling that she was toying with him. He had a feeling there was more to this meeting than a girl wanting to schedule plastic surgery to fix some preconceived and oftentimes non-existent flaw. What was her game? "Surgery? So what do you want to have done?"

Pivoting on the balls of her feet, she presented him with her profile as she peeked over her shoulder at him, deep blue eyes widening in mock surprise. "Can't you tell, Dr. Izayoi? I've been told . . . I need bigger breasts."

Wrapping his arm over his stomach as he propped his other elbow and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his grin was lazy. "Really."

She grinned back. "Do you need to see them?"

Kichiro shook his head. "All right. What do you really want?"

Turning back to face him, all the pretenses fell away. The girl leveled a look straight into his eyes, and this time when she smiled, it was natural - beautiful. "I have a friend. I'd like you to help her."

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He stood motionless as long seconds ticked off the clock, staring at her as though he were trying to see into her head, to see the thoughts that were spinning around. Belle didn't blink, and she didn't offer any more information. 

He sighed. "All right, I'll bite. What does your friend need, and why are you asking me to do it?"

Biting her lower lip, Belle took her time answering. Having spent the greater portion of her seventeen years learning how to manipulate her father, her teachers, and basically every other male she came into contact with, she didn't figure Dr. Izayoi would be any more difficult to persuade than the quarterback of her high school football team had been. Batting her eyelashes a few times, she smiled and shrugged. "Nothing untoward . . . unless you've something interesting in mind?"

His smile was tolerant at best as he cocked his head to the side and flicked his wrist, checking his watch. "I'm running late this morning, so if you're just here to waste my time, then I think we're finished."

Belle's clear blue eyes flared in surprise at the blatant dismissal. Covering her astonishment quickly, she sank down in the padded leather chair and sighed. "My friend was burned - severely burned - a year ago. The doctors told her that she needs plastic surgery to repair the damage . . . skin grafts and all that. She doesn't have the money to have it done, and she can't go to just any plastic surgeon, you understand."

The light of understanding glowed in his brilliant golden eyes, and Belle relaxed just a little, cautious optimism blossoming in her chest. If he would just agree, if he would just hear her out . . .

"Your surname is Zelig, you said? Your father's rich. Why don't you ask him to pay for the surgery?"

"It's not like that," she countered.

"Don't tell me your father is immune to your tricks."

"That's mean."

He shook his head. "But accurate."

"Is that so?"

"Isn't it?"

"For your information, Kelly won't let me pay for the work. I've already offered many times."

"Kelly . . . ?"

She waved her hand, annoyed that he was ignoring the broader picture. "Hendricks."

"I don't take charity cases."

"Doesn't it bother you at all that someone might really need your help? Not just some superficial work that'll sag and have to be redone in a few years? Maybe that's what you're after. The more lifts and tucks you perform the more money you make, right?"

"Mind your manners, little girl."

Wondering just how she could have assessed him so erroneously, Belle glared at the hanyou as she shot to her feet and snatched her silk jacket and stalked toward the door. She couldn't resist offering a parting barb before she left. "You're just like every other stuffed-coat, Dr. Izayoi. You can't see past age . . . so stuck in your belief that youth means stupidity? That I'm shallow because you're - what? Ten years older than me, if that? Forget I asked."

Dr. Izayoi cleared his throat loudly, stopping her before she could storm from the office. Reining in the urge to march over and rant at him a little more, Belle drew a deep breath as she slowly turned her head to look at him again. He was smiling indulgently. She gritted her teeth and waited.

"I said I don't take charity cases, but if your friend is that set against allowing you to pay for her surgeries, then I have no choice to demand payment in another way."

She couldn't restrain the hot color that instantly flooded her face as her temper soared. "You call me a little girl then you have the gall to- "

"Calm down, Miss Zelig. For kami's sake, I have absolutely no interest in anything . . . untoward? That was your word, correct? I need another receptionist, that's all. If you care about your friend's reconstructive surgery so much, then maybe you'd like to take on the job to pay for it."

The surge of hope fizzled out, and Belle swallowed hard as she tried to keep her disappointment from showing. Forcing a tight smile, she nodded at the doctor. "I can't do that."

Gaze narrowing as his grin widened, she could almost hear the gloating he was doing in his own mind. "I understand."

"No, you don't. I'm here with Daddy because he's giving a lecture. We're leaving, probably today. Thank you anyway - for nothing."

Stalking from the room with her back straight and proud, Belle kept her composure until she stepped onto the sidewalk outside the medical office. She sighed, shoulders slumping as she shook her head slowly and blinked back angry tears. How cruel was it, to offer her a chance to help her friend and then to have that same chance taken away?

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Kichiro sighed as he rubbed a long-fingered hand over his face. 

She was interesting, that girl. Zelig Bellaniece, only daughter of the North American tai-youkai . . .

She didn't _look_ like a little girl; she didn't _act_ like a little girl, and yet when she wasn't putting on that misplaced act, there had been a certain vulnerability about her, too.

He turned, staring out the window. '_If she'd taken you up on that offer to be your receptionist, she'd have driven you nuts_.'

Kichiro snorted inwardly. '_Damn straight, she would have,_' he agreed as he wrinkled his nose. '_There's something about her . . . She's trouble_.'

And that was true. He had been in more than his fair share of trouble over the years. Much of it had been instigated by his rowdy, rotten twin, but Ryomaru had certainly not forced Kichiro to all the things that made him grimace, now that he thought back.

If he were completely honest with himself, he'd have to admit that he was bad - horrible, really. Ryomaru and he had discovered girls long ago and spent the majority of their teenage years into their early twenties being, as Ryomaru's mate was fond of saying, 'man-whores', and while Kichiro had never actually gone 'all the way' with any of the women he was with, he had certainly gone far enough.

Kichiro frowned as he sat on the ledge beside the window. He wasn't sure when he'd lost interest in those shallow relationships. He hadn't simply awaked one morning to the sudden realization that the casual flings just weren't enough for him anymore. Maybe, after seeing his cousin Toga, settle down with Sierra and witnessing the happiness they shared, then later Ryomaru and Nezumi . . .

Maybe that's when he first started to understand that there really was more, and that he didn't have it yet.

Strange, really. Growing up in his family with his parents, he'd seen first hand, how happy they were. Izayoi InuYasha grumbled and complained, growled and groused at anyone in listening distance, but it was just as obvious that he adored Kagome. Maybe Kichiro had looked for things that never really were there, and maybe he'd gone along with Ryomaru's often inventive if not outright deviant plans so long that it had become second nature.

Or was there more to it than that?

Easy to say that he'd simply let Ryomaru talk him into things, but in reality, Kichiro was the one who normally was left cleaning up the messes his twin left behind. Maybe in some strange sort of way, Kichiro had acted more as Ryomaru's conscience, and maybe that was the real reason he'd always tagged along.

The irate flash of brilliant blue eyes cut through his musings as his thoughts returned to the girl, the hanyou. He'd seen other hanyous, and he knew that various ones exhibited varying traits of their youkai parents, or, as in his case, his hanyou parent. He'd never seen an inu-hanyou retain the youkai ears, but unless his sense of smell was affected - highly likely since the little girl thought she'd look older with that atrocious cigarette dangling from those slender fingers - then he knew she was, indeed, human. He could _smell_ the human part of her, and unless his vision had been impaired - highly _un_likely since he'd seen enough of her in that skimpy dress to know that she didn't look like the little girl he'd accused her of being - he hadn't seen anything else in her that would have labeled her as hanyou even if she weren't under a concealment.

Kichiro knew enough about the elusive North American tai-youkai to know that he, like Kichiro's uncle, Sesshoumaru, was inu-youkai. Dog youkai. Little else was known.

"_You can't see past age . . . so stuck in your belief that youth means stupidity? That I'm shallow because you're - what? Ten years older than me, if that?_"

Grimacing as her words echoed in his mind, Kichiro sighed again. He'd seen girls like her before; spoiled brats who got their way by smiling and batting their lashes a few times. Girls like that were a dime a dozen, weren't they, and he knew that better than anyone because he'd dated more than his fair share of them over the years.

"Kich, your next appointment is here," the receptionist said as she poked her head into Kichiro's office.

"Thank you, Mai," he said as he stood and turned to face the middle-aged woman. "Send them in."

Mai bowed and nodded before backing out of the room.

"Oh, Mai . . . I want you to get some information for me."

The secretary-receptionist stopped and waited for further instruction.

"See if you can find anything on an American girl named Hendricks Kelly. She was severely burned in a fire."

Mai looked confused but nodded anyway before she left the office.

Kichiro strode over to his desk, snatching the file off the neat surface and deliberately ignoring the question that was running through his head.

'_Thought you didn't care, Kich_ . . .'

"Feh! I don't."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Wiping a furious tear off her cheek as she poked the elevator button in the hotel lobby and ignoring the array of pitying glances she was receiving, Belle made a face and whipped around to take the stairs instead. 

She wasn't sure what she was expecting when _he_ had slammed through the door in the lavish medical office. She supposed she'd expected someone older, someone who looked more professional. If he was thirty, she'd eat her purse. He looked like he'd be more at home in less professional setting, yet his bearing and demeanor was completely at ease.

She'd gotten his name from a friend of a friend. He was rumored to be the best youkai/hanyou plastic surgeon around. Touted for refining the marking process before he'd even finished medical school, they called him brilliant.

Kichiro Izayoi.

She'd walked into his office to wait - he was running late, much to the chagrin of his frazzled secretary. She'd never been this far from home, and more to the point, she'd sneaked out of the hotel while her father was getting dressed to give a lecture at the University of Tokyo.

Her nerves were shot, really. Torn between the anxiety of what her father would do if he found out she'd sneaked out of the hotel and the almost-obsessive desire to help a friend, it had taken every ounce of bravado she possessed to goad Belle into tempting fate in this venture. Cain Zelig had an overprotective streak that bordered on the perverse, and it really didn't help that her daddy was also inu-youkai, which, in a nutshell, meant that she rarely got away with anything, ever.

Digging into her purse, she rummaged around for her compact but stopped as she pulled out the almost full pack of Marlboro reds. She'd taken the cigarettes off the coffee table before she'd left the hotel. She wasn't sure why her father had taken to smoking again. He hadn't done it in years. She'd grabbed them as she was sneaking toward the door so that he wouldn't smoke them. It didn't matter that she knew that if he really wanted them, he'd just go out and buy more. At least, in her mind, she had been keeping him from smoking the foul things. Pausing beside the polished silver trash can, Belle wrinkled her nose in disgust as she tossed the pack into the garbage.

In a stupid effort to calm her rising anxiety while she waited for Dr. Izayoi to make his appearance, Belle had actually tried to smoke the offensive things and had ended up nearly choking herself, instead. The second one had been a show of bravado, and she hadn't been surprised when Dr. Izayoi took that one, too. '_Daddy smokes when he's nervous. No wonder they calm his nerves_. _He's too busy trying to keep from choking to be nervous!_' She made a face and stalked toward the stairwell.

Sighing as the heavy metal door swung closed behind her, the sound echoing through the melancholy emptiness of the sterile white cinderblock cubicle that extended to the top of the fifty story hotel, Belle's face contorted in a thoughtful frown as she slowly climbed the stone stairs. It didn't matter that she had gone to see the good doctor for the sake of a friend. She was a small town girl who hadn't been further away from home than the town forty miles away to go shopping when she could coax her father out of the house, and he had been just a little too smug, a little too complacent, and overall, a lot too much of an ass.

He was hanyoushe hadn't realized that. She could see through his concealment spell, though it was stronger than she had seen before in any other hanyou. Hers was strong too, because her father was the North American tai-youkai. '_Maybe it has something to do with his parents . . . the great hanyou and miko_ . . .' Younger than she expected, taller than she expected, more handsome than she expected, and apparently far angrier than she had expected, too, Dr. Izayoi looked surprised for all of ten seconds before he strode over to her, snatched the cigarette from her hand and smashed it out in the decorative ashtray on the desk.

The fuzzy little ears on his head twitched as though he were monitoring the area for signs of danger. Belle bit her lip, hid her smile. She'd never seen anyone with ears like his before, either. Hanyou, she was, but her ears resembled her father's. His ears looked sinfully soft, and it had taken all of her common sense not to run right over and touch them.

She winced. No, that would have been a bad, bad thing. Kichiro Izayoi already thought she was nothing more than a stupid little girl - amend that: a stupid, spoiled little girl. The very last thing she needed was to add fuel to that fire, right?

Pushing through the door on the landing on the tenth floor, Belle shook her head and squared her shoulders as she tried not to flinch. Her father was back. She could smell his scent lingering in the empty hallway as she quickened her pace. She didn't even try to kid herself into thinking that he didn't know she was gone. Maybe she could convince him she'd just gone down to the giftshop.

Of course, that would probably be easier to do if she had remembered to pick up some small trinket somewhere . . .

The door to their rented suite swung open as Belle reached for the handle. Cain Zelig glowered down at his daughter seconds before grabbing her into a stiflingly tight hug. "Are you all right?" he demanded when he finally let go to drag her inside. "Have you been crying?"

Belle forced a weak smile and shrugged. "Of course not, Daddy. Don't be silly. I got some dirt in my eye, that's all."

He didn't look like he believed her. Staring at her for long moments, Cain finally sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. "Where were you? I thought I told you not to leave the hotel."

Belle rolled her eyes and leaned up on tip toe to kiss her father's cheek. "I just went for a short walk. It's a lovely day, you know."

He kissed her forehead and let go as he shuffled over to pour a glass of water. The ice in the pitcher clicked softly, and he drained the glass before turning back to face his daughter, sapphire eyes troubled, searching. "I know it's kind of sudden, but . . . would you mind if we stayed here awhile?"

Her surprise must have showed in her face as Belle blinked and leaned against a small table. "You want to stay here? Why?"

He shrugged. "The university needed someone to fill in. Seemed a little rushed, so I figured why not?"

Belle wasn't sure why her father was lying. She knew there was more to it than that. He guarded his privacy with the viciousness of a dictator. Still . . .

If she pointed that out, he'd probably drag her back home. If she didn't . . .

'_I could do it, couldn't I? I could take that job, and Kelly could have the surgery, after all_ . . .'

She smiled instead. "Sounds great, Daddy . . . in fact, I was offered a job today."

"A job?"

Belle nodded. "A receptionist in a doctor's office."

He looked skeptical. "Who?"

Belle headed off to her room, anxious to be alone, to escape the critical eye of her ever-observant father. "Kichiro Izayoi - he's a surgeon."

She didn't see the look of surprise followed by the pensive frown as she left Cain in the living room.

**_

* * *

_**

**_A/N_**:

A_ll right, you want to see them? Okay … The artist who has brought the characters to life is named __UchinanchuDuckie__, and the sketches she's done can be found here: http(colon)uchinanchuduckie(dot)deviantart(dot)com(slash)scraps/ I warn you, you'll be in awe of her mad, mad skillz_ …

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_Hook, line, and sinker? Feh_ …

**_

* * *

_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize. _

_Sue_


	3. Subtle Changes

**_Chapter 3_**

**_Subtle Changes

* * *

_**

"I want to have a baby."

The unnerving sound of claws rubbing against the blade of the legendary sword faltered moments before Izayoi InuYasha let Tetsusaiga drop to the floor with an obscenely loud thump. "Come again?"

Kagome flipped a page in her home and garden magazine but didn't look up. "I want to have a baby," she stated once more in much the same sort of tone she'd use when telling InuYasha that it was raining outside.

InuYasha's golden eyes narrowed as he stared in dumbfounded shock at his mate. "Feh! Well, nothing _really_ important then . . . Wench, next time you say something that stupid, then you ought to at least put the magazine down."

That got her attention. Closing the publication, Kagome stood up and dropped the magazine on the coffee table before she wandered over to InuYasha's side and curled up next to him on the sofa. "Come on, InuYasha. Ryomaru's found his mate, Kichiro will soon, I'm sure . . . Gin's in college . . . It'd be nice to have another child."

"Have you lost your fucking mind or did you really enjoy all the shit Ryo and Kich got into? And Gin? Feh! She ain't _that_ old! She ain't even been on a date!"

Arching one delicate black eyebrow, Kagome leveled a pointed look at the hanyou. "And just whose fault is that, I'd like to know? Between you and the boys, you've managed to chase off every single guy that's come over to take your daughter on a date."

"Feh! I've said it before: if the bastard can't kick my ass, then he can't fucking date my pup."

Kagome rolled her eyes despite the tolerant smile on her face. "Maybe so, but you've got to admit, there aren't many who could do that."

His smile was downright gloating. "Yeah? Then I guess she ain't dating."

The front door opened and closed. Kagome leaned over to kiss InuYasha's cheek before standing up to greet their daughter while InuYasha retrieved the old sword and hung it above the fireplace again.

"Mama! You're back early!" Gin greeted as she hugged Kagome and stepped into the living room with her mother. "Papa!" Breaking away from Kagome, Gin ran over and threw herself into InuYasha's arms. "Did you have a good vacation? What'd you bring me?"

"Who says we brought you anything, runt?" he argued with a grin.

Gin wasn't buying. "You always bring me back something. Hand it over."

InuYasha snorted but dug into his pocket for the small but perfect seashell. Pressing it into Gin's waiting hand, he couldn't help but smile as she squealed happily and kissed his cheek. "Thank you! It's lovely!"

"Aren't you home early today?" Kagome asked as she sank down in the chair she'd vacated earlier.

Gin shrugged. "Yeah . . . my visual arts teacher has taken personal leave, so until they find a replacement, they suspended classes." She shook her head and sighed.

Kagome frowned. "What about your aide position?"

"Well, Brekichi-sensei said that I should still be able to do it," Gin remarked as she turned the shell over in her hand. "That is, if they get a replacement."

"I'm sure they will," Kagome assured her. "I could call Kagura later, if you'd like. Maybe she's heard something."

Gin waved a hand in dismissal and grinned at her mother. "Nah, it's fine. Let me go put this away, then I'll tell you about the guest lecturer today!"

InuYasha watched as Gin ran off to put the trinket away with the rest of the shells she'd collected over the years.

Kagome shook her head but grinned. "Such a papa's girl," she accused with a sigh.

"We talked about this. Those heathens you call sons are yours. Gin's mine."

"You know," Kagome remarked as she slipped her arms around her mate's neck and kissed his cheek, "we _could _have a daughter if we tried again . . ."

InuYasha kissed Kagome and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah . . . or we could have twin sons again."

Kagome giggled. "Come on, InuYasha . . . you know you want to."

InuYasha sighed. ". . . Damn it."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro shuffled up the driveway with his hands buried in his pockets toward the small house in the middle of InuYasha's Forest. He could make out the sounds of someone---probably Nezumi---rummaging around in a toolbox. As he neared the opened garage, he had to hop back as his identical twin Ryomaru came barreling outside. Ryomaru ducked in time to avoid the wrench that came flying at his head as Nezumi's voice echoed in the confined space. "_Hentai!_" 

Casting his brother a knowing grin, Kichiro chuckled and shook his head. "Oi, Nez! Killing's not good . . . maiming would be okay though."

Nezumi stomped out of the garage and spared Kichiro a curt nod before glaring at Ryomaru again. "What's up, Kich?"

Kichiro shrugged. "No, no, I don't want to disrupt something that promises to be amusing."

Ryomaru snorted but his ears flattened when Nezumi narrowed her gaze on him. "I just thought Nez needed a break," he grumbled, cheeks pinking as he glowered at the ground.

"I'll break _something_, all right," Nezumi complained as she turned on her heel and stomped back into the garage.

"What'd I miss?" Kichiro asked without looking away from Nezumi's retreating form.

"Feh! Nothing . . . Anyway, why are you here?"

Kichiro chuckled and leaned back against the shining blue Harley---Nezumi's Harley. "Is that the way you greet your twin?"

Ryomaru shot him a pointed glower. "When I was trying to distract Nez? Yeah, yeah it is."

"What'd you break this time?"

"What makes you think I broke anything?"

Kichiro shook his head. "Because your mate is fixing your car, baka."

"I dunno . . . Nez said something about the transmission, but she just replaced that a few months ago . . ."

"Uh huh," Nezumi called, voice muffled by the hood of the car. "You blow those up when you don't keep fluid in them."

Ryomaru flattened his hanyou ears as he wrinkled his nose. "How was I supposed to know you didn't check the fluid?" he shot back.

Kichiro winced, figuring that was probably not a smart thing for Ryomaru to have said.

Nezumi's long, exaggerated sigh was audible. "When I said that you had to check your own fluids three months ago, I thought that was warning enough."

"Oh, hell! I don't even remember to feed the fucking cat, Nez! What makes you think that I'll remember to check the fluids in the car? By the way . . . you might want to check the oil . . ."

". . . Baka."

"Been by to see Mother and the old man?" Ryomaru asked as he stifled a chuckle at his disgruntled mate.

"They're home?" Kichiro asked, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Thought they weren't supposed to be back till Monday."

Ryomaru shrugged and headed toward the front door. "They weren't. The old man said that Mother was worried about Gin being left with a baka like you, but, well, you know him."

Kichiro grinned as he followed Ryomaru inside and headed for the refrigerator and a bottle of soda. "So in other words, he was afraid I'd let Gin slip out on a date, you mean?"

Ryomaru snorted. "Something like that."

Taking his time shoving the marble into the glass bottle, Kichiro shook his head. "It'll be a cold day in hell before that girl gets a date."

"You sound like it bothers you."

"Nope. Gin's too good for the lot of them, isn't she? Quite honestly, I doubt there's a man alive who deserves her. Too bad she doesn't realize that."

Ryomaru made a face as Kichiro drained the soda since he hated the stuff. Yukitora the cat hopped onto Ryomaru's shoulder. If Ryomaru noticed, he didn't comment. "She's too much like Mother. I don't think Gin has any idea what most men are like."

Kichiro snorted as he rinsed out the bottle and dropped it into the recycling bin. "With brothers like us? I think she knows."

Ryomaru grinned as he idly rubbed Yukitora's ears. Kichiro rolled his eyes. "Speak for yourself, Kich. I'm reformed."

Kichiro was about to retort to that comment when his cell phone rang. Ryomaru chuckled and headed out of the kitchen as Kichiro dug into his pocket for the device. "Izayoi."

"Dr. Izayoi? Hi, this is Belle . . . we met earlier in your office?"

Kichiro frowned, crossing his arms over his chest as he shook his head and stared at the phone before lifting it back into place against his head where his ear should have been---if he were human. "Belle-chan . . . is there something you wanted?"

"Chan?" she repeated with a giggle. "That sounds so . . . cute."

"Yes, well, it's the same thing I'd call my baby sister," he replied with a slight grin.

Belle sighed. "You're still stuck on my age, are you?"

"How did you get my private number?"

"I have my ways," she nearly purred, and if Kichiro didn't know better, he'd have sworn she was cat-youkai. She had apparently reverted to playing the vixen.

Too bad Kichiro wasn't interested in the chase. "Is there something you wanted?" he repeated again.

"Actually, yes . . . You said you'd do my friend's surgery if I worked for you, right?"

The little alarm bells in his head escalated from a small chime to a four-alarm wail. ". . . So I did."

"Good! Daddy's had a change of plans, you see. When should I start?"

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_Why the hell did I agree to stay?_' 

Cain Zelig shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he stared out the window at the crowded, smoggy city of Tokyo. The crumpled cigarette pack lured him, and despite his resolve not to smoke near Bellaniece, he gave in with a sigh. Shaking out a cigarette with one hand, he retrieved a lighter from the other pocket and started the mental countdown, knowing that it wouldn't be long before his darling daughter emerged from the sanctity of her room to berate him about the dangers of smoking.

'_Gin Izayoi_.'

With a wince, Cain blew out a perfect smoke ring and stared at it thoughtfully as it dissipated in the air. Of course he knew who her father was. He knew her uncle too, for that matter. Damn that Sesshoumaru . . . it was his fault Cain had agreed to lecture.

The girl was sweet. There was something about her, something innocent and fresh, as though she hadn't been touched at all by the world around her. It was a rare thing. In a day and age when children learned much too early about the bad aspects of the world, Gin seemed unaffected.

He sighed. '_Why am I thinking about her?_'

'_You know why_.'

'_I didn't take the job because of her. That's . . . that's . . . I didn't_.'

'_If not for her, then why? She's an art student. There's a good chance she'd be in one of your classes, isn't there? What are you thinking, Cain?_'

'_I repeat, I didn't take the job for her_.'

'_Damn it. She's just a girl---a beautiful girl---a beautiful girl who can't be that much older than your own daughter. Don't be stupid_.'

"Daddy," Belle said as she stepped into the living room with her arms crossed over her chest and a disapproving frown on her pretty face. "I thought you promised not to smoke inside."

Cain glanced over his shoulder and grimaced but didn't move to put out the cigarette. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded mildly as she adjusted her purse strap.

Belle shrugged. "I told you, I got a job. Dr. Izayoi wants me to start tomorrow, so I need to get some appropriate clothes."

"Take it easy on my Visa, will you?"

She grinned and hurriedly kissed his cheek, wrinkling her nose as she forced a loud cough. "I'll leave you alone about smoking . . ."

"Spend as much as you want," he agreed. "Make sure you have your cell."

"I do," she assured him as she rolled her eyes and headed for the door. "I'll call you if someone even looks at me weird, okay?"

Cain snorted. "Don't be a smart ass, Belle."

"I love you, Daddy."

He shook his head but grinned. "Best get moving before I change my mind."

"I'm history."

The soft click of the door closing behind her made his smile widen. '_Sometimes_,' he thought as his smile turned a little sad, '_she's just like her mother_.'

His gaze slipped over to lock on the marble statue---the one Gin had been touching. He didn't know if he would ever finish it. There was entirely too much finality in that. The statue had remained in that state for nearly eighteen years. It was the concrete reminder of the promise he had yet to keep.

'_Isabelle_.'

Cain wandered over, ran his knuckle along the cold marble. Bellaniece was almost of age. She'd find a mate soon, wouldn't she? She'd find a mate, bear a son, and then . . .

Then he'd be free, wouldn't he?

His smile faltered as he jerked his hand away from the statue. '_Free to join you, Isabelle_ . . .'

That thought should make him happy, shouldn't it? She was his mate, and she had died. He should have followed after her long ago. He should be pleased that the tasks that bound him to this world were nearly completed.

So why did he keep seeing glowing golden eyes instead?

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin hung up the telephone, biting her lower lip as she glanced out of the corner of her eye to see if her father had heard any of her subdued discussion. InuYasha was kneeling on the floor, staring outside at the falling night. The sun was sinking on the horizon, and the only thing that had saved Gin, she figured, was the impending new moon. She could feel her youkai blood receding, and her senses, like her father and brothers, were starting to dull. Turning around and leaning against the telephone stand, Gin watched as InuYasha's silvery hair slowly darkened, and when she looked down at her own locks, they were black, too. 

"Was that Kyoko?" Kagome asked as she glanced up from her magazine.

Gin forced a smile and rubbed her sweating hands on her skirt as she nodded. "Yeah . . . she's all ready to leave, but there was a problem . . ."

Kagome frowned as she leaned forward to drop the magazine on the table. "Nothing serious, I hope . . ."

Gin perched on the edge of the sofa and shot InuYasha a nervous eye. "Well, the girl who was going to sublet Kyoko's apartment fell through, and if Kyoko can't find someone else to take it, she won't be able to afford to go."

"Oh, that's too bad," Kagome murmured as she slowly shook her head. "She's always wanted to go to Julliard."

Gin twisted her fingers together in her lap and cleared her throat. "I was thinking . . . I could . . . I could lease it . . . her apartment . . ."

Kagome opened her mouth to reply then snapped it closed only to repeat the process a few more times. "I see . . . I take it you want to do this."

"It would be helping her out," Gin said, measuring her words carefully as she tried not to wince when she heard the rustle of clothes as InuYasha stood up and slowly prowled closer.

"I think it's---"

"The stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard!" InuYasha growled, cutting Kagome off as Gin cringed. "You don't need an apartment. You've got a perfectly good bedroom just down the damn hall!"

"InuYasha, calm down . . . at least hear Gin out, please."

Gin cast her mother a thankful look before straightening her back and slowly turning to meet her father's irritated gaze. "Papa, I love being here with you and Mama, but I'm twenty-four, and I'm not a baby anymore."

InuYasha snorted. "Feh! You're still a pup, Gin. You can move out the day I die."

"It's closer to the university, and---"

"And what part of 'over my dead fucking body' didn't you understand?"

"Papa, please, I---"

"No."

"But---"

"_Fuck_ no."

Kagome stood up, shaking her head as she held up a hand. It was something she rarely did, but when she did it, InuYasha normally stopped to listen. This was one of those times. "I think we should let Gin make this decision."

"_What?_"

"Listen, InuYasha, Gin's a good girl. We raised her to think things through and to make the best choices for herself. She has to have her own life sometime. We can't shelter her forever."

"The hell we can't, wench!" InuYasha growled.

Gin tried to hide her smile. It wasn't often that her mother blatantly disagreed with her father, but once Kagome stated her opinion, her father always gave in, even if it did take him longer to reconcile himself to it.

"No, InuYasha, we really can't. Sooner or later, Gin has to make choices of her own. I trust she'll make the right ones for her."

InuYasha made a face and snorted. "Feh! There will be no dating, Gin, do you hear me? Not until you bring him here. If I find out---"

"For the love of kami," Kagome sighed loudly, "She knows how you feel about that!"

InuYasha shook his head. "Right, she knows how I feel. So did her brothers, and you know what happened there."

Kagome closed her eyes. "That was completely different."

"How do you figure?"

"Ryomaru inherited your baka gene, remember? Besides, that all worked out for the best, didn't it?"

"Oh, for the love of---" InuYasha turned on his heel as he tossed his hands in the air and stomped toward the glass doors, pausing only long enough to yank Tetsusaiga off the wall before slamming out of the house.

Kagome sighed again before leveling a look at her daughter. "If you want that apartment, Gin, you'd best call and tell Kyoko now."

Gin tried to smile but couldn't help but feel a little guilty over her father's blustery departure. "Are you sure, Mama?"

Kagome finally smiled. "So long as you know that you can always come back home . . . and so long as you know that you're expected to come by to check in often. Your father loves you, Gin. He just doesn't always know how to show it."

"I know, Mama." Gin winced again. "Papa really isn't going to be happy, will he?"

"Your father will be fine."

Gin shook her head. "No, not about that . . . Tetsusaiga won't transform tonight."

Kagome giggled as she remembered that one little fact, too. In human form, Tetsusaiga would not have the ability to transform into the Sword of the Fang that InuYasha cherished. "He'll be fine, Gin."

Gin hugged her mother before running over to call her friend back. Kagome followed InuYasha outside. Only then did Gin break into a small grin. That was just a little easier than she had thought it'd be. She owed her mother, big time . . .

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_Damn _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	4. New Beginnings

**_Chapter 4_**

**_New Beginnings_**

* * *

Gin hurried down the hallway, trying not to run as she mumbled under her breath and checked her watch again. 

She'd overslept. Her first night in her new apartment, and she'd overslept.

Face contorting in a grimace, Gin rushed toward the classroom, hoping once more that no one had seen her traversing Tokyo's skyline. Her father would have a fit if she'd been spotted, never mind her brothers and InuYasha did it all the time . . .

'_It's entirely hypocritical_,' she thought as her frown deepened. '_Ryo and Kich were terrible---horrible---and I'm the one who ends up under constant surveillance_ . . .'

She sighed as she slipped into the classroom just seconds before the wall clock marked time for class to start as students hurried to their worktables. Hoping that they'd gotten a suitable substitute professor, she dropped her bag onto the table and busied herself in pulling out her sketchbook and pencils as the students fell silent.

"Morning. I'm Cain Zelig, and I'll be teaching this class for the rest of the semester."

Gin's mind slowed to a crawl at the sound of the American's voice. The five sketching pencils she had in her hand flew out of her grip as if they were covered in grease just as the tablet she'd been holding to her chest slipped. They hit the floor with a dull thump followed by her bag that she managed to send flying when she whipped around to retrieve her pencils. Stifling a groan and wishing the floor would open up and swallow her, Gin felt her cheeks erupt in white-hot flames as she fumbled around for the items she'd dropped.

"Problems, Miss Izayoi?"

Stifling a groan as Cain closed in on her, Gin hurriedly grabbed the pencils in her reach and left the others as she shot to her feet---and straight into Zelig-sensei's chin since he was bending down to help her. "Oh, kami, I'm so sorry," she gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth as the items she'd just retrieved flew out of her arms once more.

Cain winced and rubbed his chin then shook his head and slowly started to bend down again. When Gin moved to do the same, his hand shot up to stop her. She could feel the already painful flush darken as her classmates erupted in giggles and twitters around her.

"Thank you," she blurted as he stood up slowly and plopped her things onto the worktable. He smiled tightly and nodded once before turning on his heel and stalking back to the front of the room.

'_I am such an_ idiot!' she moaned as she sank onto the stool behind her.

'_Look at it this way_,' a little voice reasoned in her head, '_at least you can't embarrass yourself much worse, now can you?_'

She scowled as she flopped open the sketch pad and tried to concentrate on the still-life sketch of a bowl of fruit. If there was one thing that she had learned from her father, it was this: things could _always_ be worse.

She sighed and tapped the end of her pencil against her chin as she pretended to scrutinize the sketch.

'_Sure_,' she thought dully as she darkened the outline of a perfect apple. '_Next time I could break the poor guy's nose or something. Maybe I should have stayed in bed today_ . . .'

He was her teacher.

Gin shook her head slowly as she tried to grasp the implications of it. Zelig Cain was such a prominent member of the artistic community that despite his reclusive tendencies, he was regularly named on the most influential artisans list, and that he was here in her classroom filling in for their normal teacher for the entire semester . . .

The butterfly brigade took hold of her stomach as Gin tried to concentrate on her sketch. Zelig-sensei's presence seemed to penetrate the room. As though his youki was a palpable thing, Gin felt the strong current glide over hers with a gentle strength that soothed her as much as it enticed her.

Peeking up through her thick fringe of silvery hair, Gin swallowed hard as she realized that he was staring at her, his darkened eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Biting her lower lip as she forced her gaze away from him, Gin's brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to force her attention back to her still-life sketch.

'_He's got such presence, such stature_ . . .'

With a sigh, Gin set her pencil down and grabbed the kneaded eraser to undo the slightly lopsided contour of the orange she'd drawn. Though normally very meticulous with her work, she couldn't help but worry that the simple assignment wouldn't be quite up to scratch in Zelig-sensei's eyes.

'_He's fascinating, really. I wonder if he avoids attention to perpetuate his legend_ . . .'

Wrinkling her nose at her thoughts, Gin dropped the eraser and groped around for the pencil as she plotted the contour of the fruit. She hated sketching inanimate objects. It seemed so pointless, so flat. She understood the point of the exercises. They were designed to hone the fundamental skills of perspective, proportion, and shading. That didn't make them more enjoyable. She sighed.

'_He can't need this job_,' she reasoned as she arced the pencil over the rough paper. '_He's rich . . . probably as rich as Uncle Sesshoumaru, if not richer_ . . .'

Not that it really mattered; money didn't make anyone happy. It simply made the question of why Zelig-sensei had taken the position at the university that much more intriguing. Why would a man who shied away from the limelight for so long and with such tenacity suddenly decide that he wanted to take a low-level job at a public university when the press was going to notice him sooner or later?

'_Why is he here? He said he was going back home, to the _ _United States__, didn't he?_'

She smiled just a little as she flipped to the next page in her sketchpad and started drawing. '_Does it matter why he's here? I could learn so much from him . . . if he'll teach me _. . .'

No, it didn't really matter, she supposed. Zelig-sensei's work was brilliant, and he was going to be her professor.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle sashayed into the opulent office and straightened the straps of the sleeveless pink dress before squaring her shoulders and striding purposefully toward the receptionist's desk. "Hi, I'm Belle . . . I'm supposed to start work today." 

The older woman behind the desk glanced up at her before offering her a tepid smile. "Kich said he'd found another secretary. Can you type?"

Belle started to state that she could, of course. Her conscience pricked her before she could give voice to the lie. "Uh . . . no."

The woman's smile dropped a few degrees. "So you can't do billing. Can you file?"

"File?" Belle echoed with a shake of her head.

"Answer the phone?"

"I could do that!" Belle replied, the relief in her voice too thick to hide.

The receptionist slowly shook her head. "Most will be calling to make or reschedule appointments. Can you do that?"

"I . . . I think so . . ."

With a heavy sigh, the woman sat back and stared at Belle incredulously. "Why don't you tell me what you _can_ do?"

Wincing at the woman's cold demeanor, Belle straightened her back proudly and lifted her chin. "I might not know how to do these things, but I can learn."

The woman wasn't impressed. Standing up with a heavy sigh, she stomped over to the coffee machine and took her time pouring a cup while muttering under her breath about useless girls and Kichiro's penchant for collecting pretty things. Belle felt her cheeks explode with indignant color, and she had to grit her teeth to keep from responding to the derogatory assessment in kind since she was obviously not meant to hear it. If the woman knew that she worked for an inu-hanyou, Belle didn't know, but in case the human did not, she wasn't about to let the cat out of the bag.

After deliberately making Belle wait while she finished preparing her coffee and without bothering to offer Belle a cup---not that she'd want any of the foul-smelling concoction, the woman finally turned to face her again, her tolerant smile back in place. "Look, we are very busy in this office. I don't really have time to train you in basic things that any secretary needs to know. Whatever you learn here will have to be picked up as you go. Are you sure you want to work here?"

"I'm a fast study," Belle said smoothly despite her rising indignation. "Don't worry about me. I need this job."

The woman's eyes took in Belle's dress and bearing. Finally she shrugged and returned to her desk. "I'll ask Kichiro what he wants you to do, if he decides to come in today."

"He doesn't come in every day?"

"He's _supposed_ to come in every day. Kichiro will miss his own funeral one day, mark my words."

Belle smiled cautiously, unsure why her listening to the complaints about Kichiro seemed to make the woman friendlier. "You speak English well," Belle ventured.

"My name's Mai. My husband is from New York."

"I'm from Maine."

Mai's smile warmed. "Beautiful country up there."

"Yeah, it is," Belle agreed.

"We honeymooned there at a little bed and breakfast on the ocean."

Belle's smile widened. Her father's home was also on the ocean, and there were times she missed it viciously. Maybe she'd inherited a bit of her father's reclusive behavior, or maybe it was something she'd grown to appreciate. There was a simplicity in it that appealed to her. In that place was the freedom to be herself, to leave all the false façades on the shelf. She shook her head. She was here, and she had a mission. Kelly's surgery was the most important thing to her. She'd do whatever she had to do to make sure the surgery happened.

"_I_ _don't think that's a good idea, Kel . . ." Belle said as she frowned at her best friend_.

"_Oh, come on, Belle! No one's going to know, least of all your daddy," the young ferret youkai scoffed_.

"_I'm not afraid of Daddy," Belle protested. "It's just not a smart thing to do!_"

_Kelly laughed, mousy light brown hair tumbling over her shoulders as she let her head fall back, her face outlined in the light of the setting sun filtering through the window. "You've got to try it! A little marijuana never hurt anyone!_"

_Belle shook her head and stood up stiffly as Kelly lit the joint. "I'll see you, Kel._"

"_You're such a baby, Belle! Heaven forbid you piss off your dad, right? Whatever. See you._"

_Belle didn't answer as she strode out of the house. Kelly had always been daring like that. Belle was, too, in her own way. The difference was that Kelly's sort of rebellion tended to be more destructive while Belle was more careful in choosing her battles. Contrary to Kelly's belief, Belle didn't fear her father, the great tai-youkai, at all. Cain had a way of making Belle feel as though she had completely let him down, and that, really, was something far worse than fear. He'd get a certain look on his face, a sadness in his gaze as he slowly shook his head, and though he rarely said anything about her perceived badness, that look was enough_---more _than enough_.

_That was the night though_ . . .

_Belle remembered all too well. The next morning, she'd headed to Kelly's house since the two of them ran to school together every morning. Kelly's house was burned black, the frame creaking and groaning in the early spring wind blowing off the ocean. Kelly was in the emergency trauma center nearly two hours away by car. They said a smoldering cigarette butt had caused the fire. Belle knew in her heart it was something completely different_.

_And yet Kelly had changed after that. Gone was the rebellious girl who would do anything on a dare, and in her place was the childhood friend that Belle had grown to adore in her youth. The third degree burns that covered most of Kelly's body had been scary enough to see, and Belle wondered more than once, if she had stayed, surely she would have made sure that whatever was burning was extinguished. Nothing would have happened if Belle had just stayed_ . . .

_Kelly was youkai, and Belle stubbornly believed that, as such, Kelly would heal fast. That was true enough. Kelly's youkai blood did save her from the fire, and it did help her flesh heal. It couldn't prevent the scarring that covered most of Kelly's body, and though Kelly said that she deserved it, that she had been stupid, Belle hadn't missed the sadness in her friend's eyes, and to that end, she'd started searching for someone who could help Kelly---and maybe if she could help Kelly, she wouldn't feel guilty anymore, either_ . . .

The door opened, jerking Belle out of her reverie, and Kichiro strode in with a scowl on his face. He glanced at Belle before his gaze returned. He didn't smile as he nodded curtly and headed past the women toward his office.

Mai rolled her eyes and shook her head before trailing after Kichiro, leaving Belle alone in the quiet office.

She sighed. If it weren't for the surgery Kelly so desperately needed, Belle wouldn't think twice about walking out of the office and never looking back.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain rubbed his chin again as he leaned back on the desk and watched the college students bent over their fruit sketches. While he had never actually sketched fruit before and had to wonder just what benefit could possibly come from it, he was also thankful that he had a bit of time to take in the students and acquaint himself with them before he was barraged with questions. 

Gaze sweeping over the art students, one in particular kept commanding his attention. Scrunched low on her stool, as though she was trying to take up as little space as possible, Gin Izayoi bit her lower lip as she scowled at her sketch pad.

'_Damn, she's got a hard head_,' he thought with a grimace as he shifted his jaw from side to side.

'_Yeah . . .and what did you expect? You scared the crap out of her_.'

'_I didn't do any such thing . . . at least, not on purpose_.'

Her expression shifted into a chagrined scowl, her nose wrinkling just a little as her eyebrows drew together. With a sigh, she set the pencil down, grabbed the kneaded eraser off the desk, and started blotting at the sketch. Something about that look on her face bothered him, and he refused to delve too deeply for the reason. With an inward snort at his capricious thoughts, Cain pushed himself to his feet and purposefully strode to the opposite side of the room, stopping beside the first student and studying the dull subject matter before muttering something both meaningless and perfunctory before moving on to the next.

The trouble was, as he soon found out, there were only fifteen students in the class, and not commenting on Gin's work was out of the question. He'd wandered around for nearly an hour without approaching her. Surely she'd calmed down enough by now that he wouldn't startle her again, right?

He snorted. '_Right_.'

Still he hesitated before ambling over to her worktable, pausing only a moment to glance at her sketch before clearing his throat to announce his arrival before she threw her notebook at him or worse. "Looks good," he commented in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

Gin's pale cheeks reddened and she ducked her head, twisting the pencil in her hands around in a decidedly nervous manner. "Oh, thanks . . . I thought the orange was a little too . . . round . . ."

He leaned over her shoulder and narrowed his gaze on the sketch. "So it's a perfect orange, just like your perfect apple and perfect grapes. Huh."

She glanced at him quickly, an unspoken question lighting her golden eyes as she slowly shook her head. "Is that bad?"

His smile was enigmatic, almost sad, and he shrugged as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stepped back. "Not bad . . . It tells me that you don't view the world as flawed. You see it all as . . . _perfect_."

Again she bit her lower lip as her frown deepened. "It _sounds_ bad."

"No . . . it sounds idealistic. Perfection can be boring, Miss Izayoi: tedious and dull. The world is full of imperfection, of unrealized potential because there isn't a being on earth that can attain such a goal. Remember that."

She swallowed hard and nodded wordlessly as he walked away.

The rest of the class period passed quickly enough. The students spent part of the time asking him questions about art and his exhibits. The only one who didn't ask anything was Gin. She sat at her worktable quietly, face buried in her sketchbook. He never really thought fruit could be that interesting, and for a moment he had to wonder if he shouldn't have been so tough in critiquing her sketch.

It was the truth, wasn't it? The world wasn't a nice place, and it didn't discriminate. It didn't matter if you were the strongest or the most powerful. It didn't care if you were the wisest or the most cunning. In the end, the world would take what it would take, and there wasn't a damn thing that anyone could do to stop it.

Maybe young Miss Izayoi had been cherished and protected all her life, and that was likely the reason that she had such a naïve outlook on life. Hadn't Cain tried to do that for his daughter, too?

He sighed, rubbing his temple with nimble fingertips. The trouble was that a girl like Gin Izayoi was a rare thing, and rare things were meant to be sheltered, cosseted away from the harsher realities that she would undoubtedly have to face.

When class ended and the other students filed out, Gin hurriedly packed up her things and started down the aisle between tables, heading for the door.

Cain frowned and called after her. "Miss Izayoi."

She stopped and slowly turned to face him, her expression almost guilty, as though he caught her doing something wrong.

"Going somewhere?"

She blinked quickly and shook her head as color filtered into her cheeks for the third time since she'd walked into the classroom as slow understanding dawned on her.

"You're my teacher's aide, right?"

Wringing her hands, she shifted from one foot to the other while she forced a tight little smile and bit her lip---again. "I don't know what's wrong with me today," she blurted as her face reddened more. "I got up late, and the clumsiness, and then---"

His soft chuckle cut her off, and her little hanyou ears flattened against her head as her eyes brightened suspiciously. "It's all right, Miss Izayoi. I have to check supplies. Nothing breakable."

It took a moment for her to realize he was teasing her. When she did, her face lit with a brilliant smile, and Cain was the one blinking in surprise as Gin dropped her bag on the nearest worktable and rubbed her hands together. "Okay, I'm all yours."

'_Damn_ . . .'

Cain cleared his throat and gestured at the small supply room adjacent to the classroom. "Guess we should get started then," he said, hoping she didn't hear the slight catch in his voice.

Gin laughed and, with a nod, started down the aisle toward the supply room door as Cain slowly shook his head.

'_She's just a pup_,' he reminded himself. Gin flipped her hair back over her slender shoulder. Moments later the scent of trees and wind, of oceans breezes and spring rain assailed him. Her frame swayed elegantly with her movements, and even as diminutive as she was, she held a certain presence, a quiet grace, a radiant beauty. Cain ground his teeth together. '_Just a pup in a woman's body _. . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro dropped the pen on the desk blotter and let his forehead fall into his raised hand with a sigh. Most days he loved his job. Most days had their rewards, no matter how small. Today wasn't one of them. 

In the few hours since he'd come into the office, he'd been inundated with nothing but nonsense. Outer beauty was the thing women strove to perfect. One of the women he'd seen was a regular. She'd joked that she ought to get a frequent patient discount. That had struck Kichiro as being infinitely sad. He didn't know how many times he'd wanted to tell patients that they didn't need his services at all. There was something intrinsically beautiful about every woman who walked through his office doors. If there weren't the ever-looming threat of sexual harassment charges, no matter how groundless, he'd say something. Trouble was, his patients weren't interested in therapy. They wanted a quick fix that they perceived would change misconception they had when, in reality, it changed nothing.

Plastic surgery was just a cover, anyway. His real interest was in perfecting the art of marking youkai mates, most notably the human ones. Though he had been able to prove his theory of simple blood replacement years ago when his cousin, Toga was having difficulty carrying out the needed marking, Kichiro had been trying to find less invasive ways to accomplish this, thus making the entire process much easier on both parties involved. Plastic surgery allowed him more free time as well as the ability to procure the office space needed to schedule markings.

His prophetic words came back to him, and he smiled sardonically. "_Can't say I blame you. It's a nasty business. I was hoping I'd find another hanyou, so I wouldn't have to do it_."

He'd said it to Toga when Toga was trying to come up with an alternate way to mark Sierra. It was still true. If he found a youkai or hanyou mate, the marking could be overlooked . . .

'_That is, if I ever find anyone I want to be with . . . or one who wants to be with me_ . . .'

He winced as he dragged a hand over his face. '_Even Ryo found someone already, and as much of a baka as he is, I figured he'd still be looking long after I'd found someone_.'

Shaking his head at his thoughts, Kichiro shot to his feet and strode over to the window. '_All right, that was harsh, but true enough. I guess I really did think that I'd be happily settled with a mate and a pup long before Ryo ever was_.'

Then again, Ryomaru didn't have to go looking for his mate, did he? She'd been there under his nose all along, really. It was just that Ryomaru was also baka enough not to realize it right away, either.

'_Maybe I should cut him some slack . . . I mean, his youkai chose Nezumi when we were still pups, ourselves, so it stands to reason that he didn't realize that the little voice in his head was his youkai, right?_'

Kichiro grinned as he returned to his chair and flopped back in it. '_Nah . . . he really is a baka . . . Never thinks before he does stuff. Hasn't that always been Ryo's problem?_'

'_And maybe you think _too _much, Kich. Ever consider that?_'

Kichiro made a face. '_Who asked you?_'

His youkai laughed. '_That's the beautiful thing about it. You never have to ask. I _like_ to give you my opinion_.'

Kichiro shook his head and sighed. '_Shut up_.'

"Dr. Izayoi, your last appointment for the day cancelled."

Kichiro glanced up and regarded the young hanyou in the doorway without changing expressions as she slipped into the office and sauntered toward him.

"You look angry . . . Did someone tweak your nose?" Belle asked as she perched lightly on the desk.

'_Balls, Kich . . . she's hot . . . nice rack_ . . .'

'What_? I thought I told you to_ shut up! _And find another curse word. 'Balls' just isn't right_.'

'_Oh, balls . . . See? Works just fine . . . Anyway, did you notice? She smells nice, too_ . . .'

Belle blinked and shook her head slowly, drawing away when Kichiro erupted in a low growl. "Now I _know_ I didn't do anything to deserve that," she pouted.

"Is there something you wanted?" he asked pointedly, his tone drier than normal as he slumped back in his chair.

Belle shrugged. "Not really . . . I just wanted to tell you about your appointment canceling. Why do you look so mad?"

"Why do you care?"

He'd offended her. He could tell in the way she sat up a little straighter, the way her nostrils flared the tiniest bit. Her youki constricted around her, as though she was trying to protect herself, and for some perverse reason, her reaction pleased him. "Are you always so grouchy?"

He shrugged. "I'm not grouchy. I'm thinking."

She grinned. "You need to lighten up a little. You're far too serious. You're not old enough to be that serious."

"Maybe your life is fun and games, Belle-chan, but mine isn't. I have responsibilities, things I have to do. It's called growing up. Perhaps you ought to look into it."

Those brilliant sapphire eyes snapped and blazed then narrowed as she stood up and leaned over the desk. "You don't really know a thing about me, Dr. Izayoi. How dare you make your assumptions without giving me a chance to prove you're wrong?"

"Girls like you walk into my office every day. I've seen you all. You toss your money around, and you expect the world to fall at your feet. So . . . how much did that little dress cost you? Or should I say, how much did it cost your father?"

"You're a jerk, you know that? A big one."

"Name calling? How . . . apropos."

"When the shoe fits . . ."

He narrowed his gaze on her. "You don't really want to get into a mudslinging match, do you? I think I'm better at those than you are."

She forced a tight little smile. "Since you already think so little of me, then why don't you just let me pay for Kelly's surgery and be done with me? You don't want me here, and I've got better things to do than to stand around waiting for your insults."

"So you can make the rules but you won't play the game?"

"Why then?"

He shrugged. "Maybe you need to learn a few things about how the world works. You can't bat your eyelashes and pout prettily and really think that you'll always get your way."

"And you can't sit behind that desk and judge everyone who walks into your office. Wait . . . I guess you can. Being a whole . . . what? Ten years older than me gives you that right, doesn't it?"

"Girls like you never, ever work for a damn thing in your lives. You're born, you live, and you'll die without ever having to earn a thing you're given, and the hell of it is, you think you deserve it."

"Why is that? Because men like you say so? You know nothing about me, so don't pretend you do."

Kichiro didn't respond as Belle huffed to the door, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tried not to think about why her indignant bluster amused him so much.

'_Why are you being such an ass, Kich?_'

'_Thought I told you to shut up_.'

'_Feh! Like I'll do that! You're just being nasty because she gets under your skin_.'

'_As if._'

'_And you hate it when I'm right_.'

'_I think I'll ignore you now_.'

'_As if_.'

"Belle," he called after her. She stopped, chin rising a notch as she slowly pivoted to level a glower at him. He schooled his features before he laughed outright. She looked so childish with her lips pursed in a tight little pucker and her arms crossed mulishly over her chest that she reminded him of a child version of Gin, throwing a tantrum to get her way. "Your friend . . . she can have the first surgery in a few months. Her skin needs a little more time to heal before I can do anything."

She looked surprised as he waved a hand at the file on his desk. She'd apparently missed it when she was mid-tirade.

An odd brightness lit her gaze, and she nodded quickly. "You mean, you've already checked into her situation?"

Kichiro shrugged. "A deal's a deal, isn't it?"

"Thanks," she murmured in a subdued tone before hurrying out of the office, leaving Kichiro alone once more.

'_She's something, isn't she?_'

Kichiro sighed and snorted in the empty room.

'_No, really . . . You might not want to believe it, but she's not as bad as you want to think she is_.'

'_Again, who asked you?_'

'_You don't have to ask me, Kich, you baka. One of us has to be rational. Might as well be me_.'

Kichiro rolled his eyes. '_Rational? You've got to be kidding. You sound a little too much like Ryo to be considered 'rational'_.'

'_Say what you want. At least I know a gorgeous woman when I see one . . . and I'm not afraid to say so, either_.'

'_Gorgeous, maybe_,' Kichiro allowed as he rubbed his forehead. '_I'll argue the 'woman' part. She's still just a pup trying to pretend she's all grown up_.'

'_Yep . . . sure . . . keep talking. That'll make it true_.'

'_It is true. She's a spoiled little rich girl, and I don't feel like indulging her_.'

'_Oh, balls!_ _Maybe you should be nicer to her_.'

'What?'

'_Well, you know, it's always a bad, bad thing to start out a long-term relationship in such turmoil_.'

Kichiro's head snapped up as his eyes flared wide as he slowly shook his head. '_There isn't a 'long-term' thing about it . . . and I'm _really_ going to ignore you now_.'

His youkai just laughed at him.

**_

* * *

_**

**_A/N_**:

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Kichiro's Youkai_**:

_Seriously, Kich … Did you **see** her **rack**_?

**_

* * *

_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize. _

_Sue_


	5. Friendly Faces

**_Chapter 5_**

**_Friendly Faces

* * *

_**

'_Oh, no!_'

Gin winced, biting her lower lip as she frowned at the apartment door. She wasn't a believer in karma, but she really had to wonder if she had wronged someone in a past life since someone somewhere was getting a good laugh at her expense, she was sure.

'_Almost late to class . . . humiliated in front of everyone else by my own clumsiness . . . and now _. . .'

Now she realized that in her haste to get to class on time, she'd forgotten her apartment keys, which meant she was locked out.

She had meant to make a spare to give to Kagome in case something like this happened, or in case there was an emergency. She hadn't had time to do it now, and even if she did, could she really explain to her parents that she had locked herself out? It would just prove, in her father's opinion, that he had been right, and that she wasn't responsible enough to take care of herself.

'_Think, Gin! It's not so bad . . . People lock themselves out of their homes all the time, right? So what do they do? They . . . call the building superintendent!_'

Rummaging through her bag until she located both her cell phone as well as the slightly bent card with the superintendent's number, Gin drew a deep breath as she poked the keypad and waited for an answer.

Stifling a soft whine as the answering machine stated that the man would be out of town all week, Gin winced and hung up the phone as the beginning threads of panic swirled around her head.

'_Okay . . . he's gone . . . surely there's someone else I can---a locksmith!_'

Four calls to information assistance and four more answering machines later, Gin realized something else that she should have thought of already but hadn't. Calling a locksmith at eight o'clock wasn't going to help, since most of them were closed.

Panic closed in a little more, and Gin winced.

There really was no help for it. She was going to have to call her parents, and it wouldn't surprise her if InuYasha used that as a reason for her to move back home.

Trying to think of another solution but drawing a blank, Gin chewed on her index finger claw and sighed as she slumped back against the unforgiving door---her nemesis. '_If I could pick the lock . . . bet Ryo could, but he'd tell Papa, if he didn't escort me home, himself, that is_ . . .'

A sudden thought occurred to her, and Gin held her hand up in front of her face a she considered this new idea. Her claws were long, tapered, but strong. '_I bet . . . I could pick the lock_ . . .'

Dropping her bag on the floor, she knelt down in front of the door and scowled as she jabbed the point of her claw into the lock. '_Come on . . . this _has_ to work!_'

She heard the scrape of the elevator doors open but didn't bother to look. She was so wrapped up in her task that she wasn't paying much attention at all---until the voice behind her startled her.

"Miss Izayoi? What are you doing?"

With a strangled 'eep' sound, Gin shot to her feet and whipped around to face the one man she'd rather not have seen at the moment. The 'eep' shifted into a yelp of pain since she'd forgotten that she still had her claw stuck into the keyhole. Her movement jerked the tip free but not before the sharp sting of the claw coming away from her skin registered in her mind. "Ow!" she managed just before sticking the finger into her mouth in a vain effort to alleviate the pain.

Zelig-sensei stepped back; arms crossed over his chest as he stared curiously at her but didn't speak.

"I wockt eyefelf ou," she explained without pulling the finger out of her mouth as she tried to blink back tears that gathered in her eyes.

He winced and reached out to touch her shoulder but seemed to think better of it and jerked it back again. "Don't cry . . . Can't you call someone? The superintendent or---"

Gin shook her head miserably. "E's awn," she muttered. "All week."

"Your parents? Someone?"

With a little pop, Gin let her hand drop as she shook her head again. "I can't call Mama . . . Papa didn't want me to move out, and he'll think . . . I can't _believe_ I did that!"

He sighed and nodded, understanding her dilemma. "Did you leave any windows open?"

Gin sniffled and swiped the tears away with the back of her hand. "Windows? Yes, but---"

Zelig-sensei shrugged. "I can go unlock your door if you want."

She blinked and stared at him, trying to decide if he was serious or not. "But . . . we're on the twentieth floor . . ."

"And I'm youkai. Do you want me to let you in or not?"

". . . O-okay."

He nodded, and Gin watched as he strode down the hall to the next door and let himself into the apartment next to hers.

'_Youkai . . . that's right . . . Uncle Sesshoumaru can take on an energy form . . . Is that what he's going to do?_'

Sticking her finger into her mouth again, Gin retrieved her bag and stood back to wait.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_You're crazy, you know it? Just why are you doing this?_' 

'_She's locked out of her apartment. That's all._'

'_That's the only reason? Sure, it is_.'

'_What other reason could there possibly be? Wait . . . don't answer that_.'

Cain didn't miss a step as he strode through his apartment, even when his body disintegrated into the bright blue hue of his energy form. It only took seconds for him to sail out the window and around to hers. He was solid again before his feet touched the floor in her apartment.

'_She was crying_,' he thought defensively. '_And it wasn't just the crying, either. She was trying _not_ to cry_.' Which had only served to worsen the impact of it, as far as he was concerned. The delicate features of her face were too well defined, even in the dimly lit hallway. It had been bad enough, when the tears filled her eyes, brightening her golden gaze like beacons in the dark. Then her nostrils had started quivering just a little, and by the time her lips had started trembling; he had known that he had to fix it for her, if he possibly could.

'_Damn, I'm just a sucker_.'

'_Yeah . . . so long as the girl doesn't figure that out, you'll be fine_.'

'. . . _Sure_.'

With a sigh, he turned the lock and opened the door.

Gin blinked, as though she was amazed that he'd gotten her door open, but when her face lifted to look at him, the smile that surfaced made Cain step back. Those eyes positively glowed with gratitude, and before he could register exactly what was happening, she ran toward him and launched herself into his arms. It was instinct alone that made him catch her. The warmth of her body against his was shocking as the tendrils of her unmistakable scent tightened around him like iron bands wrapped in the softest velvet. She was so vibrant, so alive, so innocent in her exuberance. Cain swallowed hard and gently set her on her feet before stepping away to put a respectable distance between them again.

Gin didn't seem to notice. "Thank you so much! I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along . . ." She frowned suddenly, tilting her head to the side as she continued to stare at him. "I didn't know you live here."

"Uh, yeah . . . the university found it for me since it was such short notice and all that."

"That's so weird! What are the odds that we'd end up being neighbors? Guess that means I can't cut classes. You'd know, wouldn't you? I mean, I wouldn't cut class, but if I did, then you'd know I was . . ."

She was babbling though he wasn't at all sure whether she realized it or not. It was something that normally bothered him. With Gin Izayoi, there was something endearing about it. He smiled despite himself.

She blinked in surprise as her words died on her lips, and she smiled back shyly. "Thanks again. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't come along. Do you make it a habit to rescue bakas who lock themselves out of their apartments?"

His smile faltered. Just why had he helped her? Wouldn't it have been easier, just to keep walking? '_Careful, Cain . . . She's dangerous, and you know it_.'

He did know that, didn't he? Cain shrugged as if it were of no real consequence. "Just when the baka who locked herself out of her apartment threatens to cry."

Gin winced, lifting her hand to glance at her claw like she'd forgotten that she had nearly ripped it off. "Yeah . . . That was pretty stupid."

"I didn't mean to startle you."

"It was my own fault. I should have realized you were behind me."

Frowning, he held out his hand. "Let me see."

She waved away his concern. "No, it's fine, really. It'll be fine by morning, I'm sure."

He shook his head. "Don't give me that, Miss Izayoi."

"Just Gin's fine. You did help me, after all."

"All right, Gin," he conceded as he nodded at her finger. "I can smell fresh blood. Now let me see it."

A hint of a blush crept into her cheeks as he stepped toward her, grasping her hand and turning it over to examine her injured finger. He winced at the bluish tint that was darkening around her claw, and tugging the cuff of his sleeve over the heel of his hand, he gently dabbed away the trace amount of blood. "You should bandage that. I can help you, if you have one."

"Sure," she agreed, her voice breathless, bemused. "I'll get it . . ."

Cain's frown deepened as he watched her hurry away. '_What the hell are you doing, Cain? Get out of here before she gets to you more than she already has!_'

He nodded but didn't move. '_Absolutely. That girl . . . damn_.'

'_Yeah? So why aren't you beating feet?_'

'_I . . . promised I'd help her_ . . .'

'_Help her? You're nuts! Isabelle, Cain! Remember Isabelle? Remember what you did to Isabelle?_'

That snapped him out of his reverie with the subtleness of a dousing of icy water. Forcing his feet to move, he stalked toward the door only to be stopped by the melodic sound of Gin's soft voice. "Zelig-sensei? You're leaving?"

"Wha? Oh . . . no . . . I, uh . . . I was just going to go get a bandage in case you didn't have one after all."

Gin's smile was immediate and breathtaking as she held up a decently sized first aid kit. "One thing about my mother: she insists we all have a well-stocked kit," she joked.

He took the box from her and opened it up to dig for a bandage. Gin wasn't kidding at all. He'd never seen such a well-stocked first aid kit. "Okay," he said as he set the box aside and ripped open the sterilized bandage. "Hold out your finger."

"You're really gentle, you know?" she remarked as he carefully wrapped the covering over the injured claw. "Must be because you're an artist."

Praying that she didn't discern the trace amount of trembling in his hands, he forced a small smile and hurriedly finished his task. "There. Don't go sticking your claw in locks anymore."

She laughed as she snapped the first aid kit closed and shrugged. "I was desperate."

"Is your father that bad?"

"Bad? No . . . He just can't seem to understand that I'm not really a pup anymore, is all."

"Call it a father thing. I'm like that with my daughter, too."

"That's right . . . you have a daughter. How old is she?"

"Bellaniece is seventeen going on three hundred, or so she'd have me believe. She says I'm a little overprotective," he admitted.

"Just a little?"

"Just a little more than 'a little'. Can't seem to help it."

Gin smiled then frowned as she tilted her head to the side and bit her bottom lip. "So . . . can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

She took her time forming her question, and when she finally asked it, she was careful to avert her gaze. "What happened to your mate?"

Cain wasn't sure why Gin's question startled him. Of course she'd be curious since she ought to know that mates normally didn't live much longer when one died. Still it took him a moment to digest it as a fresh wave of guilt rolled through his stomach at the blatant reminder. "I need to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Gin winced. "I'm sorry. I suppose I got more than my fair share of curiosity from Mama. At least, that's what my brothers have always said. I hope I didn't offend you."

"No," he assured her. "It's fine. Have a good evening."

This time he didn't stop moving until he had reached the inner sanctum of his apartment. Gin may not have realized that her question had unsettled him so badly. Then again, maybe she did. At least she wouldn't ask him that again, would she?

Cain sighed as he shook a cigarette out of the rumpled pack. '_Don't forget. Gin Izayoi really _is_ just a pup. You'd do better to stay the hell away from her_.'

Of course she was. He knew that, right?

Balancing the cigarette between his lips as he lit it and inhaled deeply, Cain closed his eyes as he willed away the memory of her impetuous hug. '_Now if I can just remember that when she's in the same room,_' he thought with a grimace, '_I'll be one step ahead of the game_ . . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Brow furrowing in concentration as she swirled the last of the off-white frosting on the cake, Gin had to admit that the cake wasn't exactly perfect. '_So it isn't the prettiest cake in the world_,' she thought with an inward sigh. '_It'll do_.' 

She only hoped that Zelig-sensei didn't laugh in her face.

'_And why would he do that?_'

'_He's an artist . . . I'm sure that to him, everything is a work of art, and this cake . . . well, it definitely isn't_.'

'_Are you sure that you're not just trying to show him that you don't try to do everything perfectly?_'

She didn't answer that question. Even if she had wanted the cake to be perfect, she wouldn't have been able to do it. She could cook, and she could bake, but decorating cakes was something that had never, ever been something she could do. Even then, she'd had to use one of her sauce pans to bake the cake in since she didn't have an actual cake pan. The results were interesting at best, and Gin could only hope that the cake tasted better than it looked.

Glancing at the clock, Gin nearly changed her mind about taking Zelig-sensei the cake. It was nearly eleven, and she really had no idea what time he normally went to bed.

'_Well, I could knock softly. If he is in bed, he won't hear me, right?_'

"Right," she murmured as she tossed the spatula into the sink and brushed her hands off. "Besides, I should do this. He was nice enough to help me. Mother always says I should return kindness. He was just being a good neighbor, and I should be one, too."

'_Okay . . . then why has your blood pressure shot through the roof at the very idea of seeing him again?_'

The butterflies in her belly escalated at the very idea of seeing him again. Gin pressed her hand to her stomach and drew a steadying breath.

'_Don't be ridiculous! It's not because of him! I just . . . I hope he likes chocolate cake, that's all_.'

Wincing at her half-hearted attempt at a lie, Gin shook her head and lifted the cake off the counter, balancing it carefully as she headed for the door.

She almost turned around in the hallway and returned to her apartment. Overcome by a mental image of just how stupid she probably looked and how Zelig-sensei would perceive her ridiculous attempt at baking him a cake, she nearly turned around to go back. Maybe the planets were aligned just right. Maybe it was the ultimate show of divine karma, and if that were the case, maybe she had offended some high entity by her very existence because his apartment door opened before she could make her escape. She squeaked in surprise as he stopped just in time to keep from running her down as he strode out of his apartment.

"Gin?"

Fighting back the furious blush that threatened to engulf her features, Gin forced a tight smile and held out the cake. "I, uh, made this for you . . . to thank you for unlocking my apartment . . ."

He seemed surprised by her gesture and leaned his head to the side as he stared thoughtfully at the slightly lopsided, entirely misshapen cake. "You made this?"

She nodded. '_This is stupid. _I'm_ completely stupid. He's going to think I'm really, really stupid . . . I don't know what I was thinking . . . Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ stupid, stupid!'

"For me?"

She nodded again as he slowly took the cake and turned it slowly, eyeing it critically. "It's not fancy or anything," she mumbled.

"No, it's fine," he assured her with a bashful smile, little more than the vaguest twitching of the corners of his lips. "What kind is it?"

Gin shrugged as she crossed her arms over her chest and bit her bottom lip. "Chocolate with vanilla butter cream icing. . ."

"Nice," he agreed as he peered over the cake at Gin's blushing face. "Listen, I was just heading out for a run through the park. You up for it?"

The discomfort drained out of her as she stared back at him. "Isn't it kind of late for that?"

Zelig-sensei shrugged. "Are the youkai in the area troublesome?"

"Of course not! They make it a rule not to mess with the tai-youkai's family---Uncle Sesshoumaru, I mean."

His smile widened at her little slip, and he raised his eyebrows and let out a deep breath. "Suit yourself, Gin. If I'm not in class tomorrow, it's because I got lost in this huge city, all by myself."

She could tell he was teasing, never mind she knew that inu-youkai did not get lost. Their senses of smell were too keen, too acute. Unless it was the middle of a windstorm, it was almost impossible for that to happen. Still she smiled and shrugged. "All right," she agreed. "Wouldn't want you to get lost, Zelig-sensei."

His smile faltered just a little before widening as he slowly shook his head. "Cain's fine, Gin."

"Okay . . . Cain, it is."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Sprinting through the forest while he asked himself for the millionth time, just why he had invited Gin along with him, Cain scowled into the darkness. '_You really are asking for trouble, old man, you know it?_' 

'_Psh. I'm not that old._'

'_And you're missing the point. She's trouble, I tell you! A girl like her . . . She'll crawl under your skin and make herself at home. While your mind is all addled by her very proximity, you won't even see what's happening till it's too late. Just what the hell do you think you're doing?_'

Wincing at the accuracy of his youkai voice, Cain picked up the pace to distance himself from the entirely too-inebriating scent of the woman-pup beside him. Whether she realized what he was doing or not, she increased her speed to match his, her footfalls as soft as a whisper on the forest floor.

He'd left Belle a note, not that he expected her to emerge from her room till morning. She'd gone to bed early, citing a headache, and though Cain had sensed her preoccupation, he hadn't remarked on it. If Belle hadn't told him something then it meant that she wasn't likely to, no matter how much cajoling he tried to use with her.

Trouble was his thoughts were in turmoil. Too restless to sit around in the small apartment with nothing to do but think, he'd decided to go for a jog to release some of his tension.

But Gin . . .

"Bellaniece is a pretty name. It's unusual. How'd you come up with that?"

Snapping out of his reverie at Gin's question, Cain shot her a quick glance but didn't slow his pace. "She was named after her mother."

"Her name was Bellaniece?"

"No . . . her name was Isabelle."

"Oh . . . that's lovely, too . . ."

He could sense Gin's unvoiced questions. She didn't ask them, but they were awash in the depths of her golden gaze. "Are you sure we won't get in trouble for running through this forest?" he asked to distract Gin before she gathered enough courage to ask the questions forming in her mind.

"Trouble? No . . . this is Papa's forest---InuYasha's Forest. He would rather that I ran here than in the park, anyway."

Cain nodded. "I see." Dropping to a walk as they entered a clearing near a small spring, he couldn't help but smile as she let her head fall back, gazing quietly up at the stars.

"They're brighter here, you know?" she said quietly. "Mama told me that when she used to go to Papa's time, the stars were brighter there, too . . . millions of them, and on clear nights, she and Papa would just sit and stare at them."

"Your father's time," Cain echoed. Precious few knew the real story of the time traveling priestess from the modern world that went back time and again to help her friends defeat Naraku in the Warring States Era. He knew the story. Sesshoumaru had told him long ago. How had Gin known that? "That was a little before my time."

Gin straightened up and slowly turned to face him, resting her hands on her hips as she shuffled a foot in the grass. "Before your time? How old are you?"

"Two hundred and eighty-two years old. One of these days, I'm going to stop keeping track."

She grinned. "That's not so bad. Uncle Sesshoumaru is well over seven hundred, probably closer to eight hundred . . . or more . . ."

"How old is your father?"

"Father's nearly fifty . . . but if you count the years that he was pinned to Goshinboku and the years that passed when he came after Mama, then he'd be closer to six hundred."

Cain chuckled. "Do you count those years?"

Gin's smile turned impish, her fangs glinting in the moonlight. "No."

Her silvery hair shone blue, the angles of her face bathed in shadows, kissed with light. Her eyes were bright as she scanned the night sky; her smile was enigmatic as she flicked her little hanyou ears.

"You ready to head back?" he asked at last, breaking the silence that had fallen around them.

Gin blinked and glanced at him, as if she had forgotten that he was there. "Sure," she said as she rotated her shoulders and strode over to him.

"Good," he remarked as he broke into a slow jog. "You're going to help me eat that cake, right?"

Gin giggled as she fell into stride beside him. "Right."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_What a day_!

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	6. Honest Mistakes

**_Chapter 6_**

**_Honest Mistakes_**

* * *

Belle awoke to a throbbing temple and an unreasonable desire to rip someone's head off. Anyone would do, she supposed. She was about to roll over and go back to sleep when reality intruded in the form of her alarm clock. 

'_Oh . . . no . . . not again!_'

She had to be a glutton for punishment. She had to be. There wasn't any other explanation for it. Only that could explain why she bothered to get up every morning and walk the four blocks to Dr. Izayoi's office only to endure his perpetual bad moods or worse, his snide commentary whenever she was unfortunate enough to be left alone with him.

The last thing she wanted to do was go into that office. She'd worked for him for a total of two weeks, and in those two weeks, she had realized something that she hadn't in the beginning. One person really could be in that foul a mood every single morning of every single day. At least it wasn't always horrible. Most of the time he simply glared, which was a far sight better than his less savory habit of sniffing in her direction and then contorting his face in the most ill-mannered show of disgust Belle had ever received.

Sitting up with a heavy sigh, Belle reached over and turned off the alarm. She didn't dare give in to the urge to quit the job, as much as she wanted to. She didn't need it. Her father was wealthy enough. If it weren't for Kelly, for the surgery that she needed, Belle wouldn't think twice about quitting. It baffled her, just why Dr. Izayoi insisted she work for him. By all accounts, he couldn't stand her any more than she could stand him, which was a shame since he really was quite handsome . . .

'_What? Handsome? Maybe I cracked my head in my sleep . . . As if I really need to think about Kichiro Izayoi . . . like_ that!'

Wrinkling her nose as she tossed the covers away and stumbled out of bed; Belle arched her back and stretched her arms over her head. Shuffling toward the door, she rolled her head from side to side, wincing at the tightness between her shoulders.

'_Kichiro Izayoi is a complete and utter jerk. I've never seen anyone who is as much of a creep as he is! I swear he_ tries _to go out of his way to be as offensive as he can be. Just what is his problem, anyway?_'

Cain was in the kitchen, hunched over the counter with his attention focused on the newspaper. Clad in the loosely tied knit shorts he wore to bed, he obviously had just rolled out of bed, too, but since classes didn't start for another two hours, he was able to take his time getting ready. He had a hunk of chocolate cake in one hand and a mug of something in the other. He set the mug down to turn the page and retrieved it again without glancing up. "Morning," he mumbled. "Coffee's ready."

Belle made a face and shook her head. It was habit for him, she supposed. He always told her that there was a pot of coffee ready even though she couldn't stand the smelly drink. As full youkai to her hanyou state, she didn't really understand how _he_ could tolerate it. She rolled her eyes and ambled over, carefully unwrapping the remaining slice of chocolate cake.

"I bought bagels for you," Cain informed her without looking up from the paper. "You can't have cake for breakfast. It's bad for you."

She grinned and ignored his admonition as she dug a knife out of the drawer and cut a small slice for herself. There were moments when she wondered if her father really saw her at all. This was one of those times. He wasn't apathetic, but he did have a habit of being distracted. It was one of his quirks, and sometimes she had to wonder if he even realized that she wasn't a pup anymore. "You're one to talk," she pointed out, leaning on the counter beside him as she waved her slice of cake toward his.

"Do as I say, not as I do."

Belle giggled and nibbled a bit of the chocolate frosting. "You know, Daddy, we've had a lot of cake around here lately. Going to tell me where they keep coming from?"

"You're going to be late for work," he said, sidestepping the cake question like he did every morning.

Belle's grin turned sly. "Is she pretty?"

Cain stuffed nearly half of his slice of cake into his mouth to avoid answering but his cheeks reddened just a little.

'_Interesting . . . when's the last time I saw Daddy blush?_' Schooling her features to hide her amusement, Belle sighed dramatically. "How about a nice, yellow cake today? I'm sure if you asked, the cake fairy would be happy to grant your wish . . ."

"Oh ayk oor owah," he mumbled as his cheeks darkened more.

"I took a shower last night," Belle pointed out, "but you win." She giggled and sauntered away, nibbling at her cake as she headed for the bathroom.

'_Maybe he really _has_ met someone_,' Belle mused as she polished off the last of her slice of cake and rinsed the crumbs off her fingers. '_That'd be nice_ . . . too _nice_ . . .'

She sighed as she turned on the shower taps and stripped off the oversized white button-down shirt she'd filched from Cain's closet that she wore as pajamas. Sticking her hand under the flow of water to check the temperature, Belle bit her bottom lip and shook her head. '_That's almost too much to hope for, isn't it?_'

She'd almost given up hope. It was something she didn't like to dwell on, but the truth was that Cain just bided his time. Though he never really said as much to her, Belle knew the score. When a youkai's mate died, it was only a matter of time before the other would follow. Since her mother had died long ago, it hadn't taken much to figure out that Cain had only toughed it out because of her and because of his responsibilities as tai-youkai. He needed to make sure she survived, and he had to make sure he had an heir. Because she was a girl, she couldn't inherit the title and position. No, Cain needed a son . . . or a grandson . . .

Belle stepped into the shower and closed her eyes as she let the torrent of water wash over her. She'd asked him once a long time ago, what would happen if he found another mate. He hadn't really answered her, and the look on his face was enough to dissuade her from ever broaching the subject again.

She had learned, from overhearing some visitors awhile later, that it was possible for a youkai to find another mate, if they could survive the initial shock of losing the first. It was to that end that Belle had been trying to get her father to notice another woman---_any_ woman. Truthfully, she wouldn't care if her would-be stepmother had purple punk hair cut in a Mohawk with enough tattoos and body piercings to put most bikers to shame. If Cain found a woman to make him happy again---to make him want to _live_ again---then Belle would consider herself grateful.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain knocked on the door and tapped the plate lightly against his hip as he waited for Gin to answer. 

"Who is it?" she called, her sing-song voice raised to permeate the thick door.

"Cain."

"Oh, Cain . . . O-okay."

He stepped back with a frown as the rattle of the chain and snap of the deadbolt lock sounded moments before the door swung open. Blinking in surprise as she tugged on the belt of the thigh-length silk robe, he could smell the dampness of her skin, her hair. Retreating another step as the fierce desire to grab her shot through him, he shook his head, tried to look away. He couldn't. She'd obviously just gotten out of the shower, and Cain had to swallow a couple times before he could find his voice. "M-morning."

Gin's smile was bright, golden eyes brilliant and glowing. "Morning, yourself! Want to come in?" she asked as she stepped back and let the door fall open a little more.

'_Hell, no! Run, Cain! Get as far away from her as you possibly can!_'

"Uh, all right," he agreed, feet heavy as lead as he forced them to move. "I was just . . . I wanted to return your plate."

She jerked back slightly when he shoved the plate under her nose. With a soft giggle, she took it and hurried over to put it down.

The robe was longer than the miniskirts she normally wore to class, he reasoned. Why, then, did it have such a profound effect on him?

'_Don't answer that, you fool! I told you to run. You could have just given her the plate at the door and left, but no-o-o-o; you had to come in_ . . .'

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Gin asked over her shoulder as she stood on tip toe to retrieve the ceramic mugs from the top shelf. The robe rose shockingly high, but if Gin noticed that at all, Cain couldn't say. _He_ did, damn it, and try as he might, he couldn't look away.

'_Snap out of it, Cain! You see your daughter in less than that, and you don't gape at her, do you?_'

'_Pfft! That's my_ daughter, _you pervert!_ She,' he thought, inclining his head toward Gin's back, '_is definitely not._'

Seemingly unaware of the scrutiny she was under; Gin carefully poured two mugs of tea and brought them over to him. "Here . . . If you want sugar or anything . . . oh, you know where I keep all that, right?" Setting her mug down on the table, she shot Cain one of the impish grins he was becoming a little too familiar with. "I'm going to go get dressed really quick. I can't drink my tea that hot, anyway."

He tried not to watch as she darted off toward the hallway that led to her bedroom. Peeking over his shoulder despite his resolve not to look, he sighed as she waved back at him before ducking into her room and closing the door.

'_Why is it that whenever she's around you can't even see straight, Cain?_'

Grimacing as he deliberately strode over to the cupboard where she kept the sugar, he tried to ignore the voice of his youkai.

'_Good God! You know where she keeps stuff in her cupboards! This is bad, you know it? Really, really bad_ . . .'

'_I have a good memory_,' he thought with a mental shrug. '_She got the sugar out of here yesterday_.'

'_And the day before that, and the day before that . . . well you get the picture. You've had tea with her every morning for the last two weeks! You even rush Bellaniece out of the apartment so you can scurry over here to drool over Gin!_'

'. . . _I don't scurry_.'

His youkai sighed.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Cain snapped out of his reverie and glanced over at Gin, who was fully dressed in a green silk blouse and white skirt. She leaned on the counter and smiled when his eyes met hers. "Pardon?"

She made a face. "I said, 'a penny for your thoughts' . . . Isn't that one of the phrases you Americans use? I read it somewhere . . . a magazine or book . . ."

He smiled despite himself. It was nearly impossible not to smile at her, and with her this close, it was nearly impossible to resist the urge to tweak her little hanyou ears, too. Though she seemed calm enough, her ears pivoted like radar receivers. They fascinated him. Bellaniece's ears were pointed, like his, and she bore crests like he did. '_Does Gin have crests?_' he wondered briefly.

'_Don't even think about that_,' his youkai snapped.

Luckily she stood up before he could reach for her ears, and she moved off to retrieve her tea. "So what are we drawing today?" Gin asked as she carefully sipped her tea.

Cain shrugged and turned around, leaning back on the counter as he stirred the cup. "Model," he told her. "Think you can do that?"

She grinned. "Sure! Does that mean we're finished doing still-lifes?"

"For now."

"Good. I don't mind them, but it's more interesting to draw actual living things."

Taking his time as he lifted the fragrant tea to his lips, Cain smiled slightly as Gin set her cup down, twisting it in circles as she leaned her head to the side and stared at the sloshing liquid.

'_You know, Cain, today's model is a man_.'

'. . _. I don't care_.'

'_You don't? That's good, because he'll be naked. Gin's going to draw a naked man_.'

'. . . _Still don't care._'

'_Think she's seen a naked man before?_'

'_Sure, she has_,' he scoffed. '_She's twenty-four. It's impossible not to have seen a naked man or woman by that age, don't you think?_'

His youkai laughed rather nastily. '_And you really don't care?_'

'. . . _Nope_.'

'_What if she likes this guy?_'

'_Like that'll happen_.'

'_It could happen. She'll see him naked_.'

Cain grimaced inwardly. '_She won't even care about the model, and even if she does, it doesn't matter to me_,' he insisted.

'_Huh . . . If it doesn't matter to you, why are you squeezing the hell out of that mug? If you don't loosen your grip, you're going to_---'

Gin yelped as the mug in Cain's hand cracked with a loud scrape. Lukewarm tea slipped over his hand and down his shirt, dripping onto his pants as a few droplets splattered on the floor. "Cain? Oh, my! Let me help you!" she insisted as she retrieved a snowy white dish towel and started blotting his hand and shirt.

"It's fine," he told her as he tried to push her away. She brushed his hand aside and shook her head as she soaked more tea into the stained cloth. "Gin, it's fine."

"You'd better get that shirt off," she told him, ignoring the disgruntlement in his tone. "It needs to soak or that stain is going to set . . . Here, let me help you."

Staring in dumbfounded disbelief as Gin's nimble fingers started unbuttoning his shirt, Cain blinked, feeling heat steal up his cheeks as he opened his mouth to form words that wouldn't come out.

'_What are you doing? She's stripping you!_'

"Gin!" he grumbled louder than he meant to as he brushed past her to drop the broken cup into the trash and shook his hand over the container. "It's not a big deal, all right?"

He grimaced. Did she have to look like he'd hurt her feelings? Dropping her gaze, she shrugged, wringing the towel in her hands as she bit her bottom lip. "I'm sorry about your shirt . . . I can get you a new one, if you want."

"Don't worry about it. I have more than enough shirts. It's not your fault, anyway."

She peeked up at him and quickly looked away again. Cain frowned. She looked even more upset than she had before. The frown contorted into a grimace as tears sprang to her eyes, and Cain stared, horrified, when she tried furiously to stave them back.

"G-G-Gin?"

She sniffled, lip quivering as she shook her head. "It's just . . . I mean . . . Oh, it's stupid."

"Stupid?" he echoed, taking a hesitant step toward her. "Gin, you're not making much sense."

She wiped a tear off her cheek. "Well, my great-grandfather gave me that cup before he died."

"Oh, hell . . . I'm sorry . . ." he mumbled.

Gin waved a hand and sniffled. "It's okay. It's just a cup, right?" She drew a shaky breath and tried to smile which only served to make Cain feel even worse.

"Gin . . ."

She shook her head quickly. "Oh . . . look at the time! You'd better hurry if you're going to change shirts before class!"

Cain didn't respond. Torn between the desire to comfort her for his mistake and the need to change out of the tea-stained shirt, he winced at Gin's overly-brilliant smile. "Hurry up or we'll miss the bus."

It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that they didn't really have to take the bus since they could both run faster than the vehicle. She was convinced to put on a happy face, though, and in the end, Cain didn't have the heart to do anything but nod as he strode toward the door.

'_That was just awesome, Cain . . . So what're you going to do for an encore?_'

Cain made a face as he jammed the key into his door. '_I thought you wanted me to stay away from her,_' he thought as he smacked his palm against the door and stomped inside.

'_Be that as it may, did you have to smash her cup? What the hell possessed you? You've only known her for a couple weeks, and even then, she's just a pup!_'

'_I know that!_'

'_Do you?_'

'_I'm not senile, damn it!_' he fumed, jerking the shirt off and sending the last couple buttons that Gin didn't unfasten flying around the room. '_I wasn't possessed, either_.'

'_Oh yeah? What would you call it, then? You started thinking about the idea of her sketching a nude male model, and you lost your temper! Cain . . . don't be stupid!_'

Shrugging on a clean shirt, Cain sighed and closed his eyes, pausing for a moment before tugging the hem down and dragging his hair out of his collar. The ponytail swished against his shoulders, and he deliberately took his time working the buttons. '_I . . . I don't know_.'

'_What do you mean, you don't know? You're letting her get under your skin. You can't even think straight when she's around. All it takes is one look from her, and you're a hopeless mess. Get a grip! Come on!_'

That wasn't true, was it? He shook his head but couldn't really argue the claim. Gin was dangerous, wasn't she? Her sweetness, her naiveté, her absolute abandon, was impossible to ignore, inebriating, and entirely too welcome. In a world that had dimmed long ago, a life he now spent simply making the motions, she'd reminded him that beauty still existed. She called to him in a voice that he heard deep within; the stir of whispers he'd long since forgotten.

'_And what'll you prove by dragging this on? What do you really think you'll achieve? Gin isn't yours. She's never been yours. She'll never be yours. You promised, remember? You made a vow, and that promise was sealed in blood_.'

'_Blood_ . . .'

Moving by rote, remembering things that were best left in the past, Cain stalked into the bathroom, jerked the handles to unleash the flow of water. His hands were shaking as he stuck them under the tap. Cold, clingy, the water gushed over him. In his mind, he saw crimson, saw his claws still smeared with blood---Isabelle's blood---and that blood wouldn't wash away. The painful memory raked at his soul: _nose filled with the stench of death, ears throbbing with the harshness of her ragged breaths, Cain couldn't escape the filmy light that filled the room with a somber aura_ . . .

Over the years he'd tried to justify it to himself, tried to defend his actions. Too bad it was simpler to cast aspersions. Too bad it was easier to hate himself for his own weakness, his own lack of vision. Weren't mistakes more convenient to find when everything was confined to the ritualistic perfection of memories? It was natural to see where the errors were made in hindsight. It was easier to blame himself than it was to believe in the capricious nature of fate.

Golden eyes flashed through his mind, a hint of a smile, a blur of silver.

Cain jerked back, brought his hands up, turning them over as he grimaced. The blood had been washed away long ago, hadn't it? The only thing that lingered was recrimination.

Lifting his gaze to his reflection in the mirror, he winced at his haggard appearance. His eyes were veiled in troubled shadows, his skin pale and drawn. Shaking off the remnants of unreasonable fear, Cain dried his hands, tried not to ask himself why he'd seen Gin's eyes, Gin's smile, tried to ignore the significance behind it. "Isabelle, I . . ." he murmured. "What am I doing?"

The voice of his youkai blood remained conspicuously quiet.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro sighed as he flicked his wrist to check his watch. '_Late again . . . you'd think that I'd be able to get to the office on time, just once_.' 

'_Balls, Kich, just set your office hours back an hour, and you'll be on time every day_.'

Snorting as he dropped into the alley beside the building, he shook his head. '_Your Ryomaru-esque logic astounds me_,' he pointed out.

'_Then don't bitch about being late all the time_.'

Kichiro didn't answer as his gaze stuck on the blue Harley parked next to the curb. '_Ryomaru's here? Speak of the devil_ . . .'

Scowling as he glanced up at the overcast sky, Kichiro grabbed the door handle and yanked.

"Morning, Kich," Mai greeted without looking up from her work.

Kichiro's frown deepened as his eyes swept over Belle's empty desk. "Where is Belle?"

Mai reached for the phone, pausing with her hand on the receiver. "She headed back to your office just after your brother arrived."

"_What the fuck are you doing, bitch?_"

Kichiro's eyes flared at Ryomaru's loud snarl. He didn't wait for further explanation, striding back toward his office.

Nezumi stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. She glanced up at Kichiro, her expression blank though her bright blue eyes were lit with obvious amusement. Kichiro stopped behind her and raised his eyebrows in a silent question before shifting his gaze over her head. It only took a second to assess the situation, and he covered his mouth with a hand to stifle his amusement.

Ryomaru stood over by the desk, glaring mutinously at Belle, who kept trying to grab Ryomaru's ears only to be thwarted when Ryomaru leaned from side to side. "Get your fucking hands away from me!" Ryomaru growled.

"Oh, come on, Dr. Izayoi! Don't be such a stiff!"

"Oh, my," Nezumi murmured.

"I ain't Dr. Izayoi!" Ryomaru shot back. "Now get the hell back!"

"I think I'd know if you weren't you," Belle replied as she grabbed at his ears again.

"Yeah, you would!"

"So you left your hair down today, big deal. It looks better, anyway."

'_Kich, get in there before Ryo loses his temper!_'

Kichiro snorted. '_Feh! She needs to learn some manners, anyway_.'

'_Maybe but Ryo looks like he's ready to cut her down, damn it, and like it or not, Belle's your_---'

'_Finish that thought, and you'll regret it_.'

'_Then get in there!_'

Kichiro rolled his eyes and loudly, deliberately cleared his throat.

Ryomaru finally noticed Kichiro standing behind Nezumi. "Balls, Kich, can you get this bitch off me?"

Belle peeked over her shoulder to see who Ryomaru was talking to, and she froze, hands poised, ready to grab at the hanyou's ears again. The expression on her face was priceless. She stared at Kichiro with a mounting sense of bewilderment before slowly looking back at Ryomaru. Kichiro nearly laughed outright as she lifted her chin and sniffed. Moments later her cheeks blossomed in a bright flush, and she jerked her hands away and stumbled back. "There are two of you?" she squeaked incredulously.

"Sorry, Ryo. I'll pick up a leash for her later."

Belle's cheeks darkened almost painfully as her embarrassment dissolved into righteous indignation. "Why, you---"

"How did you mistake him for me?" Kichiro cut in before she could finish her tirade.

She lifted her chin and shrugged. "You smell almost the same," she huffed. "I didn't know there were two of . . . you."

"It's called 'twins', little girl. Surely you've heard of them."

"Can you finish the lovers' spat later?" Ryomaru snarled as he shot her one last glower, Ryomaru stomped past her, muttering under his breath about insane secretaries.

"Lovers?" Belle choked. "As if I would ever love anyone as irritating as _him!_"

Kichiro ignored the 'lovers' spat' comment since it annoyed Belle so much that she tried to storm out of the office. He shifted his weight to his left leg, thus blocking the doorway and causing Belle to stop short. "Excuse me," she bit out.

"You probably should apologize to my brother for being . . . you."

Belle's face contorted angrily, and she shoved Kichiro aside before stomping out of the office.

"What the fuck is going on?" Ryomaru demanded, staring suspiciously at Kichiro as Belle disappeared from view.

"So what brings you by?"

Ryomaru snorted. "Feh!"

Nezumi rolled her eyes. "He was complaining about his thumb hurting all last evening."

"Oh? Why's that? Where were you sticking it?"

Ryomaru's golden eyes narrowed menacingly. "My job, baka. Anyway, I told Nez it's fine now, but she won't listen."

"You can't be too careful," Nezumi contested.

Kichiro sighed but grabbed Ryomaru's hand. Taking his time examining the appendage, he pressed around the joint and wasn't surprised when his brother jerked his hand back with a sharp hiss of pain. "I think you just jammed it, but you might want me to get a couple of x-rays, just to be safe. You can move it, right?"

Ryomaru nodded. "Yeah, it'll be fine in a day or two."

Though Kichiro was inclined to agree, as a physician, he still felt compelled to say, "Okay, but if it's still bothering you after that, come back so I can do those x-rays."

Ryomaru didn't look like he was going to agree. Nezumi nudged him with her elbow, and the hanyou snorted. "Whatever. Let's go, Nez."

Kichiro lounged in the doorway as Nezumi and Ryomaru headed out of the office. He waited until he heard the door close before he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Belle!" he called, knowing that she would hear him. "I'd like a word."

He didn't wait to see if she would comply or not. Turning on his heel, he crossed the room to his desk and flopped down in his chair.

She had bravado, he gave her that. She swept into the office with her head held high and the barest hint of a blush still dusting her cheekbones. "You bellowed?"

'_I could probably tolerate her better if she'd keep that pretty little mouth of hers closed_,' Kichiro thought with a mental snort. "You and I both know I didn't bellow." Her expression stated clearly that she didn't agree, but he ignored that and gestured at the chair behind her. "Suppose you tell me what you were doing to my brother?"

Belle looked like she wanted to argue with him but must have thought better of it because she sat down, too. "He came in with the same foul look on his face that you do every morning, and he looks just like you, so when he shot me one of your patented nasty looks, I followed him to see what had crawled up his butt and died."

"Thinking he was me, of course."

Belle smiled insincerely. "Of course."

"So . . . it didn't occur to you that he doesn't smell like me?"

His question managed to remove a bit of wind from Belle's sails, and she shifted uncomfortably. "He smells enough like you that it didn't occur to me that he wasn't you, no."

Despite the knowledge that what she said was accurate enough, Kichiro still had to twist the knife. "Ryomaru's mated, so even if he used to smell like me, then I would think that he doesn't smell enough like me for that to have actually been a mistake."

"And just what are you implying?"

He shrugged. "Your father's tai-youkai, right?"

"Yes."

"Dog youkai?"

"Yes."

"Which would make you dog hanyou?"

". . . Yes. Your point?"

Kichiro shrugged. "Dog youkai and hanyous have the best sense of smell among us. I doubt you didn't know that Ryomaru wasn't me."

"I don't think I like where you're going with this."

"And I don't think I really care."

"If you despise me as much as you seem to, then why in the world do you insist on making me work for you? Don't you have anyone else that I could work for, instead?"

That gave Kichiro pause, and he leaned back in his chair. "I'm one of the more tolerant members of my family," he lied. "You'd drive the rest of them insane. That's not really the point, anyway. You want me to do this surgery for your friend, then you need to do the work for _me_, not one of my relatives."

Belle looked like she was going to yell at him. She smiled suddenly and stood up, sweeping around the desk and perching on the edge in front of him.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a dry tone.

Belle reached out, grasped his closest ear, and rubbed gently.

Kichiro flicked his ear to escape her fingers. "Knock that off," he growled.

"Oh, now, don't be that way," she coaxed with a pout. "I was just comparing."

"Comparing what?"

Belle giggled. "Your ears, silly! Yours are nice, but your brother's are softer . . . must be whatever conditioner he uses."

Kichiro's mouth fell open as Belle scooted off the desk and sashayed out of the office again.

'_Hate to say it, Kich . . . you totally deserved that_.'

'_Who asked you?_'

His youkai laughed.

**_

* * *

_**

**_A/N_**:

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Ryomaru_**:

_Feh! Grabby wench_!

**_

* * *

_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize. _

_Sue_


	7. The Naked Truth

**_Chapter 7_**

**_The Naked Truth

* * *

_**

The room was so silent that Gin could hear herself blink. Staring down at her open sketchpad, she studiously avoided looking around as she carefully sharpened her pencil and dug out the kneaded eraser. Small sounds infiltrated the quiet, and the lull that had fallen over the class since Cain's introduction of the model was finally losing its grip. She could hear the girls at the table behind her whispering.

"He's _cute!_"

"Shh! He's taking off his robe!"

Muffling their giggles with the backs of their hands, the girls stared at the young man who had been brought in to model for their sketches.

Gin made a face as she twitched her hidden ears. The soft rustle of fabric had subsided, so she figured he was done taking off his robe now. '_It's just a sketch, Gin, no different from the sketches you do all the time_.'

She begged to differ. '_I sketch children in the park or sunsets over Papa's forest. I don't sketch nude models_.'

'_There's a first time for everything. Besides, it's no different, not really. Just pretend that his skin is nothing but a weird kind of clothing_.'

'_Ri-i-i-i-ight . . . I've seen that stuff before, you know. There's no way to mistake it for clothes_.'

'_Use your imagination, Gin. Just sketch the parts of him that you're okay with. You can add that in later_.'

Garnering her courage as she forced herself to peer up through her heavy fringe of silvery bangs, Gin scrunched up her shoulders and leaned over her sketchbook. '_Ugh . . . It isn't really that attractive, is it? I mean, it just sort of hangs there_ . . .'

'_Men's bodies were made for function, Gin, not beauty_.'

'_Maybe_ . . .'

'_Just pretend he's one of your brothers. You've seen them both naked before, remember?_'

Gin snorted inwardly. '_As if I wanted to remember that_,' she scoffed.

'_The point is, you have seen those before. Focus on your assignment, and just do it, okay?_'

She sighed.

Drawing the young man's shoulder and arm, Gin concentrated on her work even as her thoughts wandered. The unwelcome memory wouldn't go away, and as she worked, she couldn't help but think back . . .

"_Promise me, Mama," fourteen year-old Gin begged as she followed Kagome into the laundry room. "You know they'll humiliate me if they can_."

"_I'm sure you're worried about nothing," Kagome assured her. "Your brothers are going over to Deirdre's house later since her father's out of town again_."

_Gin wasn't convinced. It seemed to her that her brothers---miscreants that they were---were certain to do something stupid to embarrass her_.

"_Remember, you promised your father that you'd keep the noise down, at least after we go to bed._"

"_Yes, Mama," she replied. "You promise you'll say something to them?_"

_Kagome laughed as she dropped towels into the washing machine. "Of course, Gin, but I'm telling you, your brothers will be good as gold_."

_And they had been, for awhile. Her friends had arrived shortly after that, and everyone had been excited about the slumber party. Ryomaru and Kichiro along with Toga, who was spending the afternoon with the family, were out in the converted garage being drilled by InuYasha. Citing that the twins were growing lazy since they hadn't been practicing nearly as often of late, their father had announced that they'd be spending the day beating on each other in a mock tournament. Ordinarily Gin would have joined the guys, but since she had promised to help Kagome clean and cook for the slumber party, she hadn't gotten to participate_.

"_Where are your brothers, Gin?" one of the girls asked with a giggle_.

_Gin rolled her eyes. If she admitted that they were working out, she was pretty certain there'd be a mad rush for the garage. "They're around," she said evasively_.

"_Kichiro is such a doll!" another girl remarked with a dreamy sigh_.

"_Yeah, but Ryomaru is definitely just hot_."

"_Gross!" Gin broke in. "They're my idiot brothers!_"

_The commentary was interrupted when the glass doors slid open. Toga strode inside followed by the twins, and Gin cringed inwardly at the contented sighs escaping the small circle of girls sitting on the floor. Wearing low riding hakama designed for ease of movement in practice and without shirts, the three males didn't pay attention to their audience as they argued over who had won the practice matches_.

"_Fuck, Toga, I kicked your ass, and you know it!" Ryomaru claimed_.

"_The hell you did," Toga shot back. "This Toga does not lose to the pathetic likes of you_."

"_That Toga can kiss my ass!" Ryomaru goaded_.

"_That can be arranged," Kichiro agreed. Gin gasped as Kichiro leaned forward, catching the sides of Ryomaru's hakama, and whipped them down_.

_Ryomaru stumbled and tried to jerk up his pants with one hand as he swung his free arm toward his brother. "I should have killed you before we were born, you bastard!" Ryomaru snarled as the girls twittered to each other like birds_.

_Toga stopped and started to turn around to see what the commotion was all about. Kichiro dodged around Ryomaru to grab Toga's pants and repeat the process_.

"_Oi, damn it!" Toga growled as he jerked his pants back into place. Ryomaru had managed to pull up his, too, and the cousins stalked toward Kichiro, who was too busy laughing to realize that he ought to run_.

"Bakas!" _Gin bellowed as she shot to her feet and stomped over to the guys. By the time she reached them, Toga was holding onto Kichiro's arms while Ryomaru whipped his brother's pants completely off before striding over to the group of girls and dropping them in the midst of the gaping females_.

Gin grimaced as the memory faded. In the end, Ryomaru and Toga had tied a naked Kichiro to a chair and left him sitting in the living room much to the giggling girls' delight. Gin had untied him and had chased him out of the room as he laughed like a fool. Those brothers of hers really didn't have any shame at all. When she'd complained to her parents, InuYasha had choked on the water he'd been drinking and had strode outside to laugh until he was nearly in tears. Kagome had pressed her lips together in a tight line, but Gin had seen the corners of her lips twitching just the same. Her friends hadn't stopped talking about the 'show', and they never missed an opportunity afterward to ask when she'd be hosting another slumber party . . .

With a sigh, Gin blinked and critically eyed the sketch. It was nearly complete aside from a very conspicuous blank spot where his genitals should have been. The proportions were good, she supposed, the lines clean and well-defined. Forcing herself to look in the final area of interest, Gin's brow furrowed as she tapped the end of her pencil against the sketchpad. She'd seen her brothers and cousin, for kami's sake. Parts were parts were parts, weren't they? '_Just draw it, Gin!_' she told herself sternly.

"Wonder if he's dating anyone," one of the girls behind Gin whispered.

"No doubt," her friend replied dreamily.

"Ask him for his phone number."

"A guy like him? He's got to have a girlfriend already!"

The first girl sighed. "Why are all the good-looking guys taken?"

'_You know_,' Gin thought as her frown deepened. '_I have to say . . . he doesn't really do a thing for me_.'

'_Hmm . . . maybe you should picture someone else's head on his body?_'

Gin wrinkled her nose and fiddled with the outline of his arm. '_Oh? Like who?_'

The voice in her head giggled. '_What about . . . Cain?_'

The pencil fell out of her hand and she gasped. '_What? No! No-o-o-o-o! Oh, no_ . . .'

'_You're probably right . . . I'm pretty sure Zelig-sensei would be much more . . . impressive_ . . .'

Gin could feel her cheeks flaming as she sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyes felt like they were burning, and she concentrated on assuring herself that no one else could hear the voice that spoke so clearly in her mind. '_Come on, Gin . . . You can do this. It's just drawing another object . . . Don't think about what it is, and you'll do fine_.'

'_Don't think about what it is? It's a . . . a penis!_'

Her face grew warmer, and she stifled a groan.

'_Just let this class end_ . . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall and sighed. '_Just let this class end_,' he thought as he stared over the roomful of students. Everyone seemed to be concentrating on their sketches, and Cain leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. 

He'd been trying not to look at Gin. Deliberately ignoring the reason for his behavior, he tucked the long strands of his bangs behind his ear. Teaching art hadn't ever been something he'd considered before, and yet it seemed completely natural, too.

'_You know, it has nothing at all to do with teaching, and it has everything to do with a certain girl_.'

'_Huh. I thought you didn't approve of her_.'

'_Approving and liking are two different things, Cain. I like her just fine. I like her as much as you do . . . maybe more. You know why I don't approve. You know why it's nothing more than a really pretty dream_.'

Cain shifted guiltily, glanced over his shoulder at the clock once more. '_A pretty dream. That's what she is, isn't she?_'

'_Now that I think you might actually be listening, can I tell you again? You really need to stay away from her, Cain. Why do this to yourself? Why do this to her? You know better than anyone that you can't give her what a girl like her needs_.'

'_We're just friends_.'

'_Just friends? There's no such thing between a man and a woman as 'just friends'. Have you heard it? The call of her youkai blood? I have. Maybe you haven't because you just don't want to, and maybe she doesn't even realize it herself. She's young. She might not know it, but I've heard it_.'

'_That's ridiculous. I haven't known her long enough for that to be possible._'

'_You can't let it go on, Cain. You've got to stop it, and you've got to do it now. She still believes in fairy tales and happy endings, and you_ . . .'

Cain sighed, wiping his eyes as he conceded the truth of the words. '_I can't give her those_.'

Lifting his gaze, seeking out the girl that he'd been trying to ignore, Cain's frown deepened. She was staring at the model with a crimson flush engulfing her features that darkened just before she hunched over her sketchpad once more.

'_What is going on?_'

Pushing himself back to his feet, he ambled away from the desk, skirting the working students as he made his way toward Gin. He had to see that sketch. It wasn't really a conscious thought, and there really wasn't a reason behind it. Her discomfort was a viable thing, and he just had to know why.

'_Wait . . . didn't you hear what I just said?_'

'_She's embarrassed_,' he defended himself.

'_Well, if you're not going to listen to reason, at least make it look good, will you?_'

Stopping beside the first desk and peering over the students' shoulders, Cain forced himself to slow down, to keep himself from singling Gin out. He gave a half-hearted critique of the sketches before moving down the line of desks until he reached her.

She was concentrating on her sketch and didn't appear to have sensed his approach. Resting his hand on the back of her chair, he leaned over her shoulder as he tried to ignore her entirely too-soothing scent. The sketch was good---very good. Attention to proportion coupled with Gin's distinctive style flowed effortlessly on the page, and Cain found himself smiling. The only imperfection, really, was the void in the middle of the sketch. "You're not actually going to leave him a eunuch, are you?"

Gin squeaked in surprise, her pencil slipping out of her fingers as she whipped around to face him. Her cheeks flooded with color as she slapped her hands down over the sketch to block it from Cain's view. "No," she choked out. "I mean . . ."

"Let's see what you do with it," he prompted as he retrieved her pencil and handed it to her. "I'll come back."

Still grinning as he moved away, Cain took his time with the rest of his circuit. Every time he glanced at Gin, she was bent over her sketch.

'_Why doesn't it surprise me, that she can't bring herself to draw a penis?_'

Cain snorted indelicately as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and ambled back toward Gin's desk. '_She can do it . . . She's got nerve, I know it. I can sense it._'

'_It takes more than nerve to draw a penis. Come on, Cain . . . She's just a pup_.'

'_We'll see_.'

This time Gin looked up at him, scooting her sketchpad over so he could see it. Schooling his features at the disproportionate image, Cain bit the inside of his cheek and nodded slowly. "Wow . . . you're harsh on the ego," he finally managed to say without laughing.

Gin made a face and sighed. "It _was_ bigger," she explained in a low, sulky tone. Glancing over at the model for a moment, Gin cleared her throat and lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. "But that looked weird . . . maybe he _ought_ to be a eunuch."

He bit into his cheek a little harder as he struggled to keep from laughing. His fang broke the skin, and he grimaced as blood flowed into his mouth, but at least it was an effective diversion. He shook his head slowly and headed toward the front of the classroom once more.

"Time's almost up," he remarked, trying not to slur since his mouth was in such a state. "Montaro will be back Wednesday, so if you didn't get your sketch done, you'll have that class period to do so."

The students started putting their things away while the model---Montaro---grabbed his robe and tugged it on before striding back to the supply room to finish dressing.

"Zelig-sensei?"

Cain glanced up as Gin wandered over to his desk, hands clasped behind her back and an engaging little smile on her face. She only called him 'Zelig-sensei' when students were around. He supposed she figured it was proper. "Yes, Miss Izayoi?"

Her grin widened at the blatant barb in his address. "I just wondered if you needed me today? Mama had a couple things she wanted me to pick up for her since she's busy helping Grandma at the shrine this week . . ."

"No, that's fine," he assured her.

"You're sure?" she pressed, obviously taking her duties as his assistant seriously. She shrugged. "I'm sure I could do those errands really quickly afterward, if you do need me."

"It's fine, Gin. There isn't much to do today, anyway."

"If you're sure . . ."

Cain grinned and rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

She nodded, relief lighting her gaze with a soft brilliance. She turned to walk away but stopped suddenly, whirling around to face him again as she snapped her fingers. "Oh, yeah . . . Do you want another chocolate cake? I can make a different kind, if you'd rather."

Leaning his head to the side, Cain regarded her for a moment and was struck by her naiveté yet again. If she had any idea what sort of emotions she could bring out in him, if she knew how easily she could overwhelm his senses . . . He stifled a sigh. Better not to arm her with knowledge like that. If she could devastate him without even trying, just how much damage could she inflict if she did? "You don't have to make a cake for me every night, Gin."

She shrugged. "I like to bake. It's relaxing."

Cain relented. "Well, in that case . . . Bellaniece wanted to know if the cake fairy makes yellow cake."

She drew back but smiled as she pondered his teasing request. "Cake fairy? I like that! Do I have wings?"

"Getting there," he agreed. "A few more cakes should do it."

"You're not just . . . you're not humoring me, are you? You really like my cakes?"

"Yes, Gin, I really like your cakes. In fact, I don't think that I'll ever be able to look at another cake without wishing that you'd made it."

"Okay, now I know you're humoring me."

"No, seriously. No one's ever made me cakes before."

She giggled despite the dubious narrowing of her eyes. "Okay, I'll make a yellow cake, just for Bellaniece."

He watched with a small smile as she whirled around and hurried back to her desk to put her things away. The students had thinned with only a few stragglers left behind. Cain grabbed the metal laser pointer off his desk and idly fiddled with it, waiting for the students to finish leaving.

Montaro emerged from the supply room in regular street clothes with his duffle bag in hand. He glanced around the room for a moment before striding over to Cain. "Can I ask you a question, Zelig-sensei?"

Cain blinked in surprise but nodded. "All right."

The young man smiled. "I, uh, noticed a girl in your class, and . . . I was wondering if I could ask you what her name is."

The question caught him off guard. Lifting his eyebrows, Cain slowly nodded again as Gin headed back to the supply room to put away a few things that the other students had left out. "Okay."

Letting out his breath in a loud whoosh, Montaro scratched his head and shifted his stance. "She's got white hair . . ."

"What?" Cain barked out, eyes flaring as he tried not to comprehend what Montaro had said since he only knew one girl that could meet that particular prerequisite. "Blonde, you mean?" he asked in a tone that was more menacing than he meant for it to be.

If Montaro sensed Cain's irritation, he didn't react to it. "No, more like silver, actually . . . and really light brown eyes---almost golden. You know who I'm talking about, right?"

'_Hell, yes, I know who you're talking about, you little punk . . . Damn it, no, you can't have her name!_'

'_Calm down, Cain . . . The pup just wants her name, that's all_.'

'_Like hell it is! He wants_---'

'_Her name . . . just her name. Look at him! She won't want him, anyway, so telling him what her name is cannot possibly hurt. Besides . . . I thought you understood that she isn't really yours_.'

'_I know that_.'

'_Then tell him that her name is Gin_.'

"Why do you want her name?" he asked instead.

Montaro shrugged. "She's cute. Thought I'd ask her out."

Squelching the desire to snap the young man in half, it was on the tip of his tongue to tell Montaro that Gin was unavailable.

'_Knock it off, Cain! Are you listening to yourself?_'

'_This little bastard wants_---'

'_Wants a girl that does not belong to you!_'

Wincing inwardly at the truth behind his youkai's harsh statement, Cain swallowed hard and tightened his grip on the laser pointer. "Gin," he forced himself to say. "Gin Izayoi."

Montaro grinned and bowed. "Thank you, Zelig-sensei!"

Cain was saved from answering when Gin re-emerged from the supply room. Montaro noticed and nodded his thanks once more before hurrying over to intercept the hanyou.

'_Let it go, Cain_.'

'_Damn it_.'

'. . . _Besides, do you really think Gin would want to see a pathetic pretty boy like him?_'

Cain didn't answer, but he did turn his head so he could hear the two better.

"Hello. I'm Hyoshi Montaro."

Gin slung the backpack over one shoulder and looked up at the human. "I'm Gin."

"That's a pretty name . . . It fits you." Montaro smiled uncertainly. "I was wondering . . . would you like to get a cup of coffee with me? A soda? Tea?"

'_She'll turn him down. Look at her. She doesn't want to go. I can tell by the way she's gnawing on her lower lip._'

"Oh, um . . . I was going to run a few errands for my mother," she said slowly, wringing her hands in a decidedly nervous fashion.

"We could get a drink then do your errands?" Montaro suggested.

Gin shot Cain a distressed glance. Cain snorted and looked away. Seconds later he could feel the impact of the upset reverberating in her youki, and he flinched. Montaro didn't sense it.

'_Damn it, I hurt her_ . . .'

'_Forget it. It's better this way_.'

'_But . . . not this way_ . . .'

'_This way, that way . . . It doesn't matter, Cain. She's not yours. She's not meant to _be_ yours. Let her go or you'll only hurt her worse_.'

The truth of the statement did little to disburse the rampant guilt that washed over Cain. He shifted his gaze and winced inwardly. Those little hanyou ears of hers were flattened against her head, and though she had a weak smile on her face, he could smell her misery. It tinged her aura. It dug at him like a dagger.

"Oh, um . . . o-o-okay, I guess . . ." Gin said slowly, her voice subdued, her smile faltering. Cain snapped the metal laser pointer in his hands like it was little more than a brittle twig. "I'm ready, if you are . . ."

Cain couldn't stifle the growl that escaped as Montaro slipped his arm around Gin's waist as he escorted her from the classroom. Unleashing his irritation as the two disappeared down the hallway; Cain slammed his fist down on the closest worktable. The splintering sound of cracking wood was nearly deafening and did little to assuage his still-mounting anger.

'_That little bastard better keep his hands off her_,' he fumed as he prowled around the decimated desk.

'_Go home, Cain. Go home, and forget about Gin Izayoi_.'

'_Right . . . forget about her_ . . .'

The image of her, so lonely and sad, ears flattened against her skull as she tried her best to smile . . .

Stomping toward the door without bothering to grab his briefcase, Cain sniffed the air, located the lingering scent of her, and deliberately followed it.

'_Forget to breathe while I'm at it_,' he thought as he smacked the front doors open. '_If that pup tries anything, I'll make him a eunuch, see if I don't _. . .'

'_Cain, this is a really, _really_ bad idea_ . . .'

Cain snorted as he scanned the crowded sidewalk for any signs of Gin's silver hair. '_Not really . . . the bad idea was letting her go with him . . . She doesn't _belong_ with him_.'

'_Then who does she belong with?_'

Cain grimaced but couldn't answer that question, either.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_For humor's sake: Montaro means Big Boy. Hehehehehehehe_ …

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_A eunuch, huh _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	8. Pursuit

**_Chapter 8_**

**_Pursuit

* * *

_**

The late afternoon sunshine was warm, comforting. Shining through the canopy of leaves deep in the heart of InuYasha's Forest, the twin sons of the legendary hanyou ran side by side in companionable silence. Kichiro's purple hakama rustled in the breeze while Ryomaru hadn't bothered to change out of his jeans for the excursion.

"So you wanna tell me what's bugging you?"

Kichiro sped up and vaulted into the trees. Ryomaru was close on his heels as the two rose up to sail over the top of the forest. "Who said anything was bugging me?" Kichiro asked baldly.

Ryomaru wrinkled his nose. "Don't give me that. I know you better than just about anyone, remember? So what is it?"

"Not a damn thing."

"It's that wench, ain't it? The one in your office . . ."

Kichiro shot his brother a sidelong glance, but Ryomaru was scanning the horizon with a thoughtful frown. "Of course not. Why would she be bugging me?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"You're out of your mind."

"Might be out of my mind, but there has to be something going on. I mean, she stormed into your office to give _me_ hell for being such a . . . oh, how did she put that? Oh, yes, 'an insufferable ass'."

"Insufferable ass, huh? Feh! The little girl doesn't know when to leave well enough alone."

"Little girl?" Ryomaru echoed, and Kichiro could feel his sibling's scrutiny intensify. "She ain't that young."

Kichiro grinned. "Maybe not, but she really hates to have her age pointed out."

Ryomaru groaned. "Why do I have the feeling you're doing all this on purpose?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Ryomaru snorted.

"I'd just as soon throttle her than talk to her. She's a spoiled brat . . . Do you know, she really thought she could manipulate me?"

"Oh, so that's it. I knew there was a reason you were going out of your way to be nasty to her."

"Was I?"

"Balls, Kich! I mean, I don't like her either, but I have reason."

"Oh?"

Ryomaru snorted again. "Feh! She thought I was you, you baka! Ain't that reason enough?"

"Be that as it may, it's hardly a decent reason not to like someone."

"She called me a liar," he fumed. "That's reason enough."

Kichiro had to concede that logic. "I didn't tell her I have a twin," he remarked as the brothers lit on the ground and pushed off again.

Ryomaru shrugged. "That don't matter! I don't smell like you, or haven't you noticed? I smell like Nez . . . much nicer, if you ask me."

"Belle said she didn't notice. Probably too preoccupied with telling me she thinks I'm an insufferable ass to bother sniffing you."

Ryomaru rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Whatever. Fine thing, though."

"What is?"

"You're protecting her."

"I am not."

"The hell you're not. I say something about her, and you spring to her defense. Deny it if you want, Kich, but it's true."

Kichiro snorted and didn't answer.

'_That's right, Kich. Ryo's got a point, and balls, you really hate that, don't you?_'

'_Who asked you?_'

'_That's the beautiful thing. You don't have to ask me. I'll give you my opinion anyway_.'

'_I'd rather that you didn't_.'

'_Of course you would, but if I left you to your own devices, we'd never find a mate, would we? You're doing a piss poor job on your own, so I figured I'd just give you a nudge_.'

'_A mate would be fine_,' Kichiro agreed, '_just not _her.'

'_Think about it, baka! She's the perfect woman_.'

Kichiro nearly choked. '_What?_'

'_Yeah, yeah . . . let's see . . . She's quick, she's got spirit, she's amusing, even if you don't want to admit as much . . . and balls, she's got an awesome rack_.'

'_I'm not taking a mate because of her rack, damn it, and she is absolutely not acceptable!_"

'_She's the daughter of the North American tai-youkai! How much more acceptable could she be?_'

'_That's hardly the point! She's got no viable manners, no common sense . . . nothing at all to recommend her other than her kami-forsaken rack!_'

'_Oh yeah? Then you tell me, Kich: why does she care so much about her friend? Why is she so desperate to make sure her friend gets this reconstructive surgery if she ain't got any saving graces?_'

Kichiro sighed and scowled, ignoring the implications behind the question.

'_Maybe there's more to her. Maybe she is what she is because that's how she was taught to be_.'

'_And maybe I don't have the time or inclination to reform her_.'

'_Maybe it ain't about reforming her. Maybe it's about reforming yourself_.'

"Kich? You listening?'

Snapping out of his reverie, Kichiro shot his brother a guilty glance. "Sorry. What was that?"

Ryomaru shook his head. "I asked if you were ready to head back."

Kichiro frowned. "Since when are you ready to end these runs before me?" he demanded, suspicion creeping over him as he eyed his brother. "What's going on?"

To his surprise, Ryomaru actually blushed. "Nothing. I just have something to do, is all."

"Oh? And what's that?"

Ryomaru snorted. "Drop it, will you? It ain't important. I don't demand to know what you're doing all the fucking time."

Kichiro grinned. "That's because I don't hide anything I do, but if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I'll ask Nez."

"Well, it ain't like I'm ashamed or anything," Ryomaru retorted. "I'm just learning how to cook."

"Come again? I thought you just said that you were learning how to cook."

"I did, baka."

Kichiro couldn't help but laugh. "Why?"

"There ain't nothing wrong with cooking," Ryomaru argued. "Oh, shut up, will you?"

Kichiro's laughter escalated. "Never mind. Do you wear a frilly little apron?"

"Go to hell, will you?"

Ryomaru veered off to the right and sprinted away, leaving Kichiro alone with his amusement. Watching Ryomaru disappear into the forest, Kichiro stopped and slowly shook his head. Ryomaru learning how to cook? That was something he wasn't sure he really wanted to see . . .

'_You know, he had a point_.'

'_You again? I thought you were done badgering me for awhile_.'

'_Not hardly. Anyway, Ryo's right. You _were_ protecting Belle_.'

'_I was not. I was_---'

'_Be stubborn if it makes you happy. The fact remains that there really is something there, whether you want to believe it or not_.'

* * *

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* * *

"Izayoi . . . that name sounds familiar . . ." 

Gin forced a tepid smile and sipped the tea with an inward sigh.

'_This guy . . . is boring_ . . .'

'_He's not that bad_,' Gin thought as she stared into her cup and tried to concentrate on what Montaro was saying.

"Your father runs the Tokyo Academy, doesn't he?"

"What? Oh . . . Yeah, he does."

"I heard that was a tough school."

Gin nodded.

'_Really_, really _boring_.'

She sighed. '_All right, he_ is _boring_.'

'_Get rid of him_.'

'_How?_'

'_Tell him you have a headache_.'

Setting her cup aside, Gin cleared her throat nervously and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I think I need to go. I've had a headache all day . . ."

Montaro's dark eyebrows drew together in a concerned frown, and he stood up, holding out his hand to help Gin to her feet. She pretended not to see it as she rose, too. "I'll drive you home."

"You don't have to," she assured him as she stepped back when he reached for her elbow. "I did promise my mother that I'd run a few things over to her, after all, and---"

"That's fine. I don't have anything planned. I'll drive you."

Gin smiled weakly. "I hate to put you to the trouble."

"No trouble at all! In fact, I insist."

Seeing no way out of the predicament, Gin couldn't help but wish that Cain had gotten her unspoken plea for help before she'd agreed to go on this 'date'. "If you're sure," she replied.

"Absolutely sure."

"O-okay."

She felt trapped, caught. She couldn't bring herself to tell him that she just didn't want to go anywhere with him. That was the reason she'd agreed to dates before, wasn't it? '_Too bad Papa or the twins aren't around now . . . They'd make sure it didn't happen, even if I did get mad at them_.'

She frowned as she followed him out of the small café. '_Sort of catty of you, isn't it? You've always relied on them to keep you from having to go out on boring dates, and yet you always got angry, too_.'

It was true enough, she supposed. She'd always known, somewhere in her mind, that it didn't really matter whether she accepted invitations to go on dates or not. Her father and her brothers made sure that she never went, and even though it made her angry at the time, she knew deep down that the reason wasn't because she wanted to go. It bothered her because they didn't think she had enough sense to make her own choices.

'_And maybe you counted on it, didn't you? That they would stop you . . . that you could hide behind your outrage and not have to think about just why you didn't really like a single one of those young men, just as you don't really like Montaro, either_.'

Ducking her head as she scooted into the passenger seat of Montaro's older model Honda Civic, Gin grimaced and sighed. '_That sounds really bad, doesn't it? Accurate, maybe, but really, really bad_.'

'_Not bad, Gin. You're different, you know? You're not like all your human friends . . . They all flitted from one guy to the next without taking a breath and without missing a step. You're not like that, and you'll never be like that. You'll know it when you find _him_; the one you're meant to be with . . . You're hanyou, and that's what you'll do because that's the way of it_.'

'_Him_ . . .' she mused, rolling the word over and over in her head. '_I'll know it? How? How will I know when I find 'him' when I don't know what to look for?_'

The voice of her youkai laughed softly. '_You really don't know, do you Gin? It's not a feeling that you'll have. It's more of an inner knowledge. The one you're looking for . . . he'll make you smile when you think about him. He'll give you strength to fight for him, if you have to. His soul will speak to yours, and you will know_.'

The four block drive to the small grocery store where her mother normally shopped for food was quiet. If Montaro spoke, Gin didn't hear him. Lost in her thoughts, she could have been a million miles away.

'_What if I already met him and just didn't notice? What if he really was one of the guys Papa or the twins chased off? What if I didn't really get to know him because of that? I mean, if that happened, then would I just run into him again? Is there such a thing as fate? What if I already blew my one chance at finding my mate?_'

'_I think you'd have known, Gin. You haven't missed him. Those boys you brought home wouldn't have been able to deal with the idea that you weren't completely human. Calm down before you get yourself even more upset_.'

She'd never really considered that, had she? A human man, in all likelihood, not be able to cope with her hanyou state. There was truth in that, wasn't there? As a hanyou, she was stronger than humans, even if she wasn't very big, and really, she realized with a grimace as she peered unhappily into the side mirror and watched the street fading in the distance, maybe she did want to feel secure, protected . . . the way her father made her mother feel . . .

'_Still_,' she reasoned, needing to put all lingering doubts aside, '_it is possible that I did already meet him, right? Look at Ryo and Nezumi . . . he chose her when he was still a pup_ . . .'

'_That's not normal, I'll have you know. Ryomaru and Nezumi were the exception to the rule. It really isn't normal to find one's mate so early. Don't worry yourself over it, Gin. You're far more perceptive than your brother_.'

She supposed that might be true. '_I guess . . . Kich hasn't found a mate yet, either. Does he have to find a mate first?_'

'_If you wait for Kichiro to find a mate, you might be waiting awhile_.'

Gin's gaze narrowed as she leaned forward, staring in the mirror at the dwindling sidewalks behind. A flash of bronze hair had stood out among the sea of black. It was gone before she could make sense of it, and Gin slowly shook her head. '_Cain_ . . .'

She got out of the car before Montaro could come around to help her when he finally stopped before the small grocery. '_It couldn't have been him, could it? Why would Cain follow me? He hadn't cared that I was going with Montaro. He'd turned away from me, hadn't he?_' She grimaced, tugging her bag onto her shoulder as she willed away the unwanted sadness, the hint of melancholy. Why did she feel like he'd rejected her?

Yet the thought of him could make her smile. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep. For a moment she could feel the brush of his youki over her. He was there with her, wasn't he? Something about him lent her a sense of calm. He reminded her of a rock, of something solid that she only had to touch to steady herself, and he felt so very close . . .

'_I'd rather be at the university helping Cain . . . going on an afternoon jog through Papa's forest . . . sitting beside one of the ponds while the sun sets over the trees . . . baking him a cake because I know it makes him smile . . . He's one of the few people I've ever seen whose eyes really do light up when he's happy, when he smiles_ . . .'

"Gin? Are you okay?"

Blinking as she shook off the lingering remains of her preoccupation, Gin glanced into Montaro's concerned face and forced a smile. "I'm fine," she lied, her expression faltering as she quickly looked away.

Montaro accepted her answer and slipped his hand under her elbow. Pulling away from him but trying not to be obvious about it, Gin quirked her ears and frowned. She could have sworn she'd heard a low growl but when she looked around, she didn't see anything.

* * *

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* * *

He had known it was a bad idea to follow Gin around Tokyo on her 'date'. It was stupid. It was pointless. It was reckless. It was completely unreasonable, not to mention highly indecorous. Still he couldn't help himself as he watched from the shadows of the thick bushes as Gin got into Montaro's car. Shrinking back to hide from her view as she looked out the window with a forlorn expression, Cain waited until they pulled into traffic before emerging from the shelter and leaping onto the nearest building to keep an eye on the girl. 

'_Have I told you just how stupid this is, Cain?_' his youkai demanded as he crouched atop the small café where the couple had disappeared awhile ago. Leaning forward as he tried to peer into the café without either being seen by passers-by or falling on his head, he balanced precariously but was forced to give up when he realized that it wasn't working at all.

'_Yeah . . . shut up if you're not going to help me figure out how to get her away from that little bastard._'

'_Like I'll do that! Do you know how undignified this is? Do you have any idea at all? We're hiding on the roof like common thugs, Cain! We look like we're ready to waylay some hapless pedestrian, damned if we don't! If you want to be stupid, you might as well just run in there and snatch her up. That would end their 'date', wouldn't it?_'

Cain pondered that for a few moments but discarded the idea since that would mean explaining to Gin just why he'd followed her, in the first place. '_That won't work . . . Suggest something feasible, damn it_.'

'_Feasible? Okay, how's this: let's get out of here, all right? She's fine, you know. She's hanyou. If that pup tried anything, she'd put him in his place. She doesn't need a guard dog. She doesn't need you_.'

Wincing at the barb, Cain shook his head. '_Maybe she can take care of herself, but she shouldn't have to, should she? She's young, she's beautiful . . . She's too damn naïve for her own good sometimes_.' How many times had she said things to him; things that weren't intended to be anything but innocent and despite that knowledge was the understanding that her words could be taken in so many ways? With her penchant for saying things of that nature, was it really any wonder that Cain had followed her?

'_Oh, hell, now you're blaming her because you couldn't just let her go? Don't be stupid, Cain. You didn't follow her to protect her so much as you did to make sure that she doesn't develop a liking for the pup_.'

And there was certainly that, too.

'_What's gotten into you? Be honest. You've never acted like this, not even when you were chasing Isabelle_.'

That observation was like a dousing of cold water, and Cain jerked back as a fresh wave of guilt assailed him. It was true, wasn't it? Even Isabelle hadn't fascinated him as much as this girl did. '_That's not true . . . that . . . That_ can't _be true_ . . .'

Vague memories of Isabelle were painful, softened only by the passage of time in a corner of his mind that he tried to forget. It hurt to think about her, and yet . . . and yet the memories weren't as poignant as they once had been. He'd like to think that it was because he was nearing the end; he'd join her soon enough.

'_You promised her, but you know . . . It's been such a long time, Cain_.'

'_But a promise is a promise, and I owe her this_.'

'_And Bellaniece? Do you owe her anything?_'

Cain closed his eyes, struggled for a semblance of calm. '_I owe Bellaniece the pride that comes in knowing that her father did the honorable thing . . . that I kept my promise in the end_.'

'_You're talking about the kind of abstract consolation that really isn't a consolation at all_.'

'_You sound like you're trying to talk me out of it_.'

'_Of course not! You made a promise, right? You should keep it, absolutely. I never thought you shouldn't. In fact, it's one of the _best_ ideas you've _ever_ had, never mind that if you die, I die, too. By the way, Cain_ . . .'

'_What?_' he snarled, holding onto the roofing so tightly that the metal shingle buckled under his hand.

'_Gin_.'

'_What about her?_'

'_She's gone_.'

'. . . What?'

Streaking over rooftops as he kept an eye on the line of traffic and especially on the black Honda Civic, Cain followed them. Dropping to the ground in an alley between buildings since the next building was enclosed in a glass dome greenhouse, he purposefully slowed his step, tried to blend in with the people on the street.

'_Of all the . . . Cain, you realize that we look like a complete idiot, right?_'

'_Feel free to shut up_,' Cain tossed back casually as he glowered in the direction of Montaro's car. The pup was stopping outside a small grocery store. Gin emerged from the vehicle without waiting for Montaro's assistance. She turned to look around. He could feel her gaze sweep over him. For a dizzying second, he thought she'd seen him, but Cain ducked under a newsstand awning, and when he dared another glance around the canvas cover, she was looking the other way.

'_No, no_, no!'

'_Just a little closer_,' Cain thought absently as he strode toward the unaware couple.

'_Pfft! You're going to get caught. _I'm_ going to get caught. She's going to give us all sorts of hell, Cain, and you know, at least one of us will deserve that, too_.'

Cain was about to reply when Montaro reached out, grasped Gin's elbow. Something about seeing the bastard with any part of his body touching her set off a rage deep inside, a primitive surge of absolute possessiveness. Two words replayed in his head---two words tumbled around, melded one into another: _my Gin_. Stopping in the shadows of a small café beside the grocery store, Cain resisted the nearly overwhelming need to separate the couple. Gin's acute unhappiness was impossible to deny, and in that moment, there was nothing he wouldn't have done to make that go away.

Absently he could feel the unfurling of his youki. As if he needed to comfort her, he could feel it stretching, wrapping around her. She calmed almost immediately, a small smile surfacing on her face as the panic loosed its grip on him. Ignorant to the strange, frightened looks he was garnering from the people around him, he could feel the edges of his self-control unraveling as Montaro opened the door and held it for Gin.

The chime of the bells hung over the door silenced as it fell closed behind the girl. The jarring effect startled Cain, and he blinked slowly, drawing back as he shook his head, as realization seeped into his consciousness. He'd been growling, hadn't he? He'd been growling, and he really had thought that Gin was . . . his?

'_What are you thinking, Cain?_' his youkai demanded. The caustic voice seemed worried, and Cain . . . He hated to admit as much but he was, too. '_She's not yours . . . You know that, right?_'

'_Of course I do_,' he scoffed as he crept closer to the grocery store window. '_She's not . . . mine_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle slammed into the apartment with a pouting glower and a heavy sigh. 

'_I hate him. I really hate him. I can't stand him . . . he's . . . he's . . . oh, he's just insufferable!_'

Why did Kichiro Izayoi have to be so cruel? The reason behind his nastiness escaped her. She really couldn't grasp why he felt the need to go so far out of his way just to belittle her.

'_I don't care_,' she assured herself as she dropped her keys on the counter. '_He can be just as nasty as he wants. I need that job. Kelly needs that surgery_.' She could endure Kichiro's insufferable presence, couldn't she? "Absolutely," she muttered as she strode over to the refrigerator.

'_The two of you got off on the wrong foot_.'

'_That's not completely my fault, is it?_'

'_Well, no, but you didn't help, did you? You have to admit, you didn't make the best first impression on him._'

Belle snatched a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and made a face as she tried to ignore the gentle chiding of the youkai voice. '_He startled me . . . besides, he was really obnoxious. What was I supposed to do? Let him get away with it? I think not_ . . .'

'_Maybe you should try a new approach: instead of going in there tomorrow ready for a fight, go in there and be yourself. Let down your defenses, and let him see that you're really not as bitchy as you seem to be sometimes_.'

'_Bitchy? Whose side are you on? You're my youkai, you know_.'

'_I'm your youkai; sure . . . I'm also objective enough to see that you really don't give him a chance to be nice to you. You're always ready for him to attack so you jump at the slightest provocation. You know you do it, Bellaniece_.'

'_That really wouldn't matter, now would it? He delights in being intolerably cruel. If I let my guard down around him, he'll just laugh in my face and call me a little girl . . . He's infuriating. I . . . I hate him_.'

Her youkai laughed at the shrinking way she added the last part. Belle winced. It hadn't sounded convincing at all, even to herself. She wandered over to the window, stared without seeing as tiny people scurried past on the street so far below. A vicious twinge twisted her stomach; the wish for things that had long faded away beckoned her memory, called to her with the bittersweet song of things she'd left forgotten, like stories of unicorns and rainbows, of princesses and fairies . . .

It hadn't seemed that long ago. The simplicity of living was a beautiful thing. It had been so much easier then, hadn't it? She ran through the countryside surrounding the Zelig estate without a care in the world, without anyone to impress . . . alone and free. She hadn't realized back then, how complex things really were. In those days, she thought that nothing would ever change. She hadn't understood that some things were set in stone. She hadn't known of promises made before she was born, of things that she was only starting to understand now.

It really was nothing more than a stupid game. All her life she'd been the little girl, hadn't she? Relegated to that role by her doting father, she figured there were some things that never would change. Cain still saw her as the same little girl, even now, didn't he? She saw it in his gaze whenever he smiled that indulgent smile . . . the one that was touched by sorrow and tempered by emotions that she didn't grasp, didn't understand. She thought he'd be there forever, hadn't she? Her daddy . . . her security . . .

And curiously, it was this disguise that she loved. So long as Cain continued to see her that way, he would remain. Her father was a man of honor, integrity. He lived by his word, believed in truth and justice. These things had made him the unrivaled leader. These things, however, were the very things that scared Belle most.

'_He'll keep his word, won't he? He'd never break his promise_ . . .'

She knew that he had things that he kept from her; clandestine liaisons that he hid under the shadows of night. Whispers of things that Cain tried to keep secret, and she understood that he was responsible for the darker aspects of the youkai. To her knowledge he hadn't left home, but she wasn't ignorant. She'd even been introduced to one of the youkai; a brooding skunk-youkai named Cartham. He was a hunter, and he worked for Cain. She hadn't had to ask her father to verify that. There was a certain air of danger around the youkai, and always---_always_---the lingering stench of blood . . .

Cain liked to shelter Belle from the less pleasant aspects of life. Maybe he thought that if he could do that, she wouldn't find out about them. She loved him for that, and while she could comprehend why he would do such things, she couldn't help but feel as though he sheltered her a little too much.

A silver haired young woman drew Belle's attention, and she narrowed her gaze. On the street below the woman waited, and despite the distance, Belle could discern the trace outline of dog-hanyou ears. Hidden by a very strong concealment spell, the woman's ears wouldn't have been noticeable had Belle not been the daughter of the North American tai-youkai.

'_She looks . . . like Kichiro_ . . .'

Standing beside a tall human man, the woman looked around in a noticeably distracted way. The man touched her elbow, and the two proceeded to cross the street. Belle watched until the couple disappeared from view in the shadow of the apartment building. Moments later, a hazy ball of blue light zipped past Belle's face through the open window. Belle jumped back with a strangled gasp as Cain solidified beside her, a disgusted scowl on his face and without any kind of explanation whatsoever.

He spared Belle a curt glance before stalking over to the door. Belle frowned and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched Cain lean down to put his eye to the tiny peephole.

"Daddy? What are you doing?" she asked, careful to keep her tone neutral.

She wasn't surprised when he didn't answer. She was surprised, however, when he suddenly broke into a low, angry growl. "Daddy?" He didn't seem to have heard her. Belle cautiously walked over to him. "Daddy?" she repeated, touching his arm. Cain jerked away from the door, blinking at his daughter as though she was a stranger. "Is everything okay?"

"What? Oh . . . yeah . . . fine," he replied as he peeked into the hallway again. "Damn it," he mumbled. "That little whelp . . . I'll rip off his----"

"Who are you talking about?" Belle asked, raising her voice to be heard over Cain's dire threats.

Cain snorted and grabbed the door handle. Belle's hand shot out to stay his. "Daddy! What's going on? Who are you going to maim and why?"

"No one," Cain snarled but let his hand fall away from the door. Still agitated, he prowled the room, stopping now and again to glower at the door.

Belle nodded slowly. "All right, if you're sure you're okay," she agreed. It was obvious that he wasn't going to tell her who or what was irritating him so badly. Giving up with a sigh, she headed back toward her bedroom to change into something more casual. She stopped in the doorway and peeked around the corner. Cain was at the peephole again, muttering under his breath about idiot pups and cake fairies.

Shaking her head as she gave up trying to figure out her father's odd behavior, Belle slipped into her room and quietly closed the door.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Who was that girl_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	9. Discoveries

**_Chapter 9_**

**_Discoveries

* * *

_**

Grimacing as she stood on tiptoe and reached up as far as she could, Gin tapped her hand along the shelf to locate the baking powder despite her almost perverse resolve not to use a stepstool. The apartment was quiet other than the low hum of the box fan she had propped in the window. The occasional horn punctuated the stillness as she finally managed to extricate the final ingredient she needed for the yellow cake.

"_Bellaniece wanted to know if the cake fairy makes yellow cake_."

"_Cake fairy? I like that! Do I have wings?_"

"_Getting there . . . A few more cakes should do it_."

Smiling at the warmth inspired by those words, Gin giggled softly as she dumped butter and measured sugar into the bright yellow glass mixing bowl. '_A few more cakes for Cain . . . then I'll get my wings_.'

The telephone rang, startling Gin out of her musings, and she grabbed it carelessly, ignoring the name on the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Gin, dear, it's Mama . . . I just wanted to tell you thanks for dropping off those groceries at your grandma's."

Hooking the receiver between her shoulder and cheek, Gin's smile widened as she absently mixed the cake batter. Her mother hadn't been at the shrine when Gin had stopped to drop off the groceries. Grandma had told her that Kagome had left to take InuYasha a file he'd forgotten, and since Gin was in a hurry to get rid of Montaro, she hadn't stuck around, either. "You're welcome. It wasn't a bother."

Kagome was silent a moment, and Gin braced herself for the question she knew was forthcoming. "Mama says you had a young man with you," Kagome remarked casually---_too_ casually. Gin could picture her mother, standing in the kitchen and peering out the window to make sure InuYasha wasn't within earshot before asking that little gem.

"Oh, him? We went for tea after class, and he offered to take me to the grocery store. It was nothing."

"Really? So he's a boy from your class?"

Gin winced, knowing that the obvious relief in Kagome's voice was about to disappear. "Sort of . . . he was . . . today's model."

"Model?" Kagome echoed. "I see . . ."

"I didn't really like him, at least not that way . . . He was nice, but . . ." Gin sighed as she made a face and pushed the bowl away to butter and flour the small cake pan. "It seemed weird. I mean, I'd just seen him naked, and---"

"Naked?"

Gin blanched, dropping the metal cake pan with an obscenely loud clatter. "We had to sketch him, is all," she explained.

Kagome laughed. "I thought as much. Gin, you know, you really ought to consider how things sound before you say them. If you had said the same thing to your father . . ."

"I know . . . It didn't sound that bad in my head."

"Oh, I've got to go. Your father's home, and he doesn't look happy. He had that meeting with the board of directors, and he was worried that they wouldn't want to increase funding for the martial arts wing he wants to build onto the school . . ."

"Okay, Mama. Give Papa a kiss for me."

Kagome said she would and hung up. Gin dropped the receiver into the charging stand and carefully poured the cake batter into the prepared pan. After arranging the cake in the oven and setting the timer, Gin made quick work of washing the few dishes and wiping off the counter.

Settling down on the sofa with her sketchbook and a sharpened pencil, Gin stared thoughtfully at the model sketch. His proportions seemed right. The lines all flowed evenly. Still she couldn't help but feel that something was off. If she could figure out what it was, she might be able to fix it . . .

'_There's no life in him, Gin. He's dull and flat; as two dimensional as the paper he's sketched on_.'

Gin leaned her head to the side and bit her lip. '_He is, isn't he? How do I fix that?_'

'_You could ask Cain . . . He'd be able to tell you if it could be fixed, don't you think?_'

Scrunching up her shoulders as she scooted deeper into the sofa cushions, Gin made a face and flipped to a clean page. '_That'd be wrong, wouldn't it? I mean, no one else in class lives next door to the sensei . . . I'll ask him tomorrow in class_ . . .'

'_That's not the reason, Gin. You don't want to go over there, do you?_'

'_Don't be absurd! Why wouldn't I want to go?_'

The memory of Cain turning away from her flashed through her mind, and Gin winced.

'_That'd be why. You're afraid he'll do that again, aren't you? Cain wouldn't close the door in your face, Gin. Chances are that he didn't even realize you were trying to get his help before._'

As much as she wanted to believe that, she didn't. No, the odd expression on his face . . . He had known, hadn't he? And he had deliberately turned away from her.

Why had it been, that she'd thought he was so close? At the café, she thought she'd felt him near. Outside the grocery, she could have sworn she felt his presence. As troubling to her now as it had been comforting to her then, she couldn't help but wonder just why she would have thought she'd sensed him.

'_We saw him, Gin. You know you did. You saw him on the street._'

Gin wrinkled her nose, dragging the pencil over the paper but not seeing exactly what she was drawing. '_That's not possible though. Unless he'd followed us, he wouldn't have known where we were._'

'_Maybe he did_.'

'_Did what?_'

'_Follow you_.'

'_Why would he do that?_'

'_I don't know . . . the same reason he broke something after you left the classroom with Montaro?_'

The pencil stopped moving as Gin slowly lifted her gaze. She'd heard the loud crash, certainly. She hadn't stopped to wonder what it had been, though . . .

'_Maybe someone dropped something_.'

'_And you believe that? You know as well as I do; that sound was too loud to have been an accident, and you know as well as I do; that sound came from Cain's classroom_.'

'_He doesn't have a reason to do that_,' she reasoned as she tossed the sketchpad onto the coffee table and dropped the pencil on it. Uncurling herself as she stood up, Gin shook her head as she shuffled back to the kitchen to whip up the frosting. '_I mean, I could understand if we were . . . whatever, but he's just my teacher. He'd have no reason to follow me_.'

'_I don't know, Gin . . . I hate to say it, but I'm pretty sure he was_.'

'_Why would he do that? It doesn't make sense_.'

'_Your father and brothers threaten to maim any guy who comes over to take you on a date, and you think that Cain following you makes no sense? Doesn't Cain have a daughter close to your age? Sure, maybe a little younger. Still_ . . .'

Gin wasn't sure which was worse: the idea that Cain might have followed her or the reason it made sense.

'_No_,' she thought as she pulled the cake out of the oven and turned off the buzzing timer. '_Cain wasn't following me . . . He couldn't have been._'

'_I think he was, Gin_.'

She swallowed hard as she set the cake in the refrigerator to cool. '_If he was, then he's really no different from everyone else, is he?_'

Her youkai didn't answer.

* * *

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* * *

Kichiro leaned against the opened garage doorway, staring idly over the treetops as he watched the sun sinking. He'd brought his car over to have Nezumi change the oil since he, unlike his brother, saw the need to make sure such things were done. Though he rarely drove the car, he did like to make sure it was kept up, and even if he didn't, Nezumi tended to grumble at him till he did something about it. 

He'd gotten back from his run through the forest in time to see Ryomaru say goodbye to Nezumi before he headed out to his cooking class---something that Kichiro wasn't likely to forget any time soon---but he'd been too struck by the rare show of tenderness from his brother that he hadn't had the heart to break up the mood with a smart-ass remark at the time. Ryomaru had hugged Nezumi and kissed her cheek, cuddling with her for a few moments before whispering something to her that Kichiro was probably better off not hearing since Nezumi's cheeks pinked but her smile brightened. Then with a smug grin in Kichiro's direction, Ryomaru had sprinted off into the forest, heading toward Tokyo with the careless assurance that he'd be home in a few hours.

'_Be honest, Kich . . . you want something like that_.'

Kichiro crossed his arms over his chest and let his gaze sweep over the horizon. '_Maybe_.'

'_Maybe? Feh! You want it so bad you can almost taste it. Ain't no use in trying to deny it. You know it's true. For once in your life you're jealous of Ryomaru_.'

'_That's ridiculous. I'm not jealous of Ryo . . . I'll find my mate eventually_.'

'_Yeah . . . and maybe you already have_.'

Eyes narrowing dangerously, Kichiro stifled a growl. '_That's so far from being funny that it's _almost_ funny . . . Almost. Completely inaccurate, of course, but almost amusing_.'

'_All right, so you two didn't have that great a first meeting, but hell, you haven't given her a chance since then, have you?_'

'_She is absolutely unacceptable in every single way . . . besides that, she likes Ryomaru's ears better. They're_ softer.'

'_Oh ball, if you tell me you're all bent over that one comment_ . . .'

'_Did you hear what she said? Did you?_'

'_Uh, yeah, I did, Kich. I was there, too, remember?_'

'. . . _Damn it_.'

Nezumi propelled the creeper board out from under the car and watched him for a moment. He could feel her curious stare, could tell she wanted to say something. He didn't ask since he knew Nezumi well enough to know that it was probably a question he didn't particularly want to answer.

"You going to tell me what's on your mind or are you going to pull a Ryo and just stand there looking irritated all night?"

Kichiro shrugged and grinned. "Pull a Ryo? Are you kidding?"

Nezumi sat up on the creeper and hooked her arms around her raised knees. "Come on, Kich. All this brooding lately isn't really like you."

"It's nothing."

"If that were true, you'd have told me what the 'nothing' is. Give it up, Kich. I know you almost as well as I know Ryo."

Heaving a sigh, Kichiro had to concede that point. Nezumi _did_ know him that well, didn't she? "It's not bothersome as much as it's irritating the hell out of me," he confessed.

Nezumi shook her head and pushed herself off the creeper. "All right, I'll bite. What's irritating you?"

"It's not a 'what', it's a 'her', and I believe you and Ryo have both met her already."

"Ah, the mad ear grabber? Yeah, Ryo isn't too fond of her."

"Nah, I didn't figure he would be," Kichiro agreed.

Nezumi took his hand and dragged him toward the door. "Come on. I'm thirsty."

Kichiro didn't argue as Nezumi led him into the house and dug two sodas out of the refrigerator and handed him one before digging into a bowl of rice crackers. With a mischievous grin, she tossed one at Kichiro and laughed when he caught it in his mouth despite the chagrined scowl on his face.

"You're going to torture your pups, aren't you?" Kichiro grumbled after he swallowed the cracker.

"Probably," she agreed, popping a cracker into her mouth. "Then again, you're assuming that we'll ever have pups. Now tell me, what is it about the mad ear grabber that's bugging you?"

"What do you mean, assuming you have pups?"

Nezumi made a face and took her time pushing the marble into the bottle of soda. "We're talking about you, not Ryo and me . . . so answer my question."

Kichiro started to argue but thought better of it. Nezumi was standing much too close to the bowl of crackers for his comfort, and unless he wanted to end up playing cracker-catch for the next half hour, he'd do well to let that drop. "She annoys the hell out of me."

Nezumi frowned and took a long quaff of her soda. "So . . . that's it? She annoys the hell out of you? Then just don't think about her."

"Feh! You think I haven't tried that? I don't think you know how this works, Nez . . . I can't just stop thinking about someone when she annoys me. Nope, I have to stew over it and let it fester until it crawls under my skin and, for all intents and purposes, drives me mad."

"Okay, that's one of the stupidest things you've ever said to me, Kich. What'd she say that was so awful that you can't get it out of your head?"

Kichiro snorted. "She said Ryo's ears are softer."

"Excuse me?"

Kichiro made a face and snorted again. "She said Ryomaru's damn ears are softer than mine."

Nezumi coughed indelicately and set her soda on the counter. He could tell she was struggling not to laugh. His scowl darkened when she chuckled. "And that's why you're so irritated? Because you think Ryomaru's ears are softer than yours?"

"No!" he snarled then winced. "Yeah . . . oh hell, it shouldn't even _be_ a fucking issue, should it? Damn it, we're twins---_identical_ twins! That'd be like saying his penis is---"

"Let's not go there, Kich," Nezumi cut in, her cheeks blossoming in embarrassed color.

"Well, it's true."

Nezumi sighed. "Come here."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand. "Let me feel your ears, Kich."

Kichiro hesitated a moment but reluctantly stepped forward, stooping forward so Nezumi could easily reach his ears.

Her fingers were tentative at first, barely rubbing over the sensitive hairs. It tickled, and he twitched his ears. Nezumi giggled and brought up her free hand to rub his other ear, too.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?"

Nezumi's fingers stilled for a moment as she leaned to the side to peek around Kichiro as Ryomaru stomped into the kitchen. Kichiro straightened up quickly, wincing since Nezumi's fingers were mid-rub. "The mad ear grabber said your ears are softer," Nezumi explained.

Ryomaru's suspicious scowl shifted into one of grudging interest. "Oh, yeah? And?"

Nezumi wrinkled her nose. "Exactly the same. She was just trying to bug you, Kich, and you let her do it."

"I didn't care," Kichiro assured them both as Ryomaru and Nezumi exchanged knowing looks. "Like it matters! Feh!"

Ryomaru watched his brother storm out of the house and wisely hid his amusement until after he heard the door slam. "What was that all about?"

Nezumi grabbed the empty soda bottles and dumped them in the recycling bin. "She's gotten to him."

Ryomaru snorted. "I don't fucking like her, the grabby wench."

"Well, she _did_ say your ears were softer," Nezumi reminded him.

Ryomaru almost smiled. "Ah, yeah, that . . ."

"Yeah, 'that'."

"So . . .?" he prompted.

"'So', what?"

"So are they?"

Nezumi laughed as she turned off the kitchen light. "Of course they are," she agreed.

Ryomaru finally smiled as he followed his mate into the living room.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain prowled around the apartment like a caged animal. He needed to get out, to do something, to rid himself of the pent-up frustration before he did something stupid. Alternating between irritation that he'd let Gin go with Montaro and disgust that he'd actually trailed her coupled with the suspicion that he cared just a little more than he ought to, he'd only managed to work himself into a mindset so volatile that just one word would likely send him careening off the proverbial edge. 

'_Face it, Cain. We're in serious trouble_.'

Cain flexed his claws, cracked his knuckles, and continued pacing.

'_I mean, you completely ignored my warnings, and look where it got us. I told you she was trouble, didn't I? I told you to keep the hell away from her. Now look at you! You're ready to tear that pup limb from limb, and why? Because he touched Gin's elbow!_'

'_Yeah, well, he had no business touching anything on her, now did he? Scrawny little bastard_ . . .'

'_Have you changed your mind about keeping the promise you made Isabelle?_'

Growling at the suggestion that it would have even occurred to him to do such a thing, Cain dug his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one.

'_What'll you do, Cain? Hunt down every pup who comes anywhere near her? Think, will you? You've got no right to interfere. She's not your daughter, she's not your lover, she's not your mate . . . She's nothing to you. She's just a pretty girl with a good heart who bakes cakes for you because you were nice to her one time_.'

Damned if that sat well with him, either.

His youkai was quiet for a few minutes while Cain willed his temper to calm. Standing by the window staring out at the rising stars that were pathetically out of his reach, he'd almost gotten a handle on his emotions when his youkai spoke again. '_Would it be a terrible thing, you think?_'

'_Would what be a terrible thing?_'

'_Her . . . Gin . . . Would it be so terrible to want to be with her?_'

Cain winced, smashing the cigarette out in the glass ashtray on the window sill. '_No, it wouldn't be . . . and yeah, it would_.'

He almost missed the knock on the door. He couldn't mistake her presence. He wasn't sure when he had become so attuned to her, and yet he was struck once again by the familiarity of her as he strode over to open the door.

Gin stood in the hallway with a chocolate frosted cake and an inscrutable look on her face. He'd seen that same look just before she left the classroom with Montaro, and he was no closer to being able to read it now than he had been at the time. "How was your date?" he asked, unable to mask the distain in his voice at the acknowledgement of the intimacy.

Golden eyes slowly rose to lock with his, a strange emotion flashing behind her gaze. "It was fine. He took me for tea, and I dropped some things off at Mama and Papa's house."

"They live at the shrine?" he asked before he realized just what he'd said.

Gin narrowed her gaze, and he recognized the emotion that had been so foreign to him moments before it spilled over. "I knew it! I _knew_ it! I didn't want to believe it but . . . Damn it! You followed me, didn't you?"

"I didn't---I wouldn't---Hell yes, I did!" he growled.

The temper Cain hadn't realized Gin possessed exploded. "I expect that kind of thing from Papa or my baka brothers! I expect it from my uncle or my cousin, but you? You, Cain? Why you, too? Do you all think I'm stupid? Do you all think that I'm just some idiotic little girl who'll let myself be taken advantage of by the first baka who comes around and tries to sweet-talk me? I'm not a child! I'm not a pup, and I don't appreciate it; not from you!"

He opened his mouth to explain. Gin shook her head furiously, eyes glowing, burning him before he could answer. As if she needed to vent her frustration or die, she smashed the cake into Cain's chest with an irate growl and let the plate clatter on the floor. Cain stared, dumbfounded, as the sweet, gentle girl he thought he knew disappeared only to be replaced by a seething, angry woman whose voice was rising in pitch with every word she screamed at him.

'_Oh, my God_,' his youkai blustered. '_What the hell . . .?_'

"Gin, calm down, I---"

She wasn't finished. "You what? You ignored me when I tried to get you to help me in the beginning, but you followed me anyway? Why? Why did you follow me?"

"Because!" he yelled back, temper careening out of control. "Because, damn it, that little bastard didn't deserve to be anywhere _near_ you!"

"Oh, you sound just like my father and my stupid brothers! Do me a favor, Cain! The next time you think that poor little Gin can't take care of herself, just call them will you? At least it's expected of them! They always act stupid, but at least they have a right to! Let me get their numbers for you. It'll make it that much easier!"

He stomped after her when she whipped around on her heel and barreled back toward her apartment. His youkai was babbling in the back of his mind, but his irritation was too strong, his control stretched too far, and he couldn't hear a word of it.

"Will you calm down and listen?" he bellowed, catching her door with the palm of his hand as she tried to slam it in his face. He swung it closed after him as Gin stomped over to grab the Rolodex beside the telephone.

"Listen to what?"

"Listen to me! It's not what you think."

"And just what do I think, Cain?"

"I wasn't following you because I thought you couldn't take care of yourself!"

"Then why?"

"Because you shouldn't have to, damn it!"

Gin glanced up, Rolodex in her hands. The outrage slowly drained out of her expression, but what was left made him cringe inwardly, made him wish that she had stayed angry instead. He'd seen that look before, the one on her face. Eyes overly bright, nostrils quivering as her lips trembled, she slowly shook her head as her ears drooped. "I thought you were my friend, Cain."

He stepped toward her but stopped, wincing as her eyes glazed over with unshed tears. "Gin, I . . . don't cry."

The tears spilled over, and she choked back a sob as she dropped the Rolodex onto the table. "I ruined your shirt!" she whimpered, "two shirts in one d-d-day!"

'_My shirt?_' he thought as he closed the distance between them. Gently lifting her chin, he clumsily brushed tears off her cheeks which only made her cry harder. "No, Gin, it's fine! I . . . I hate this shirt, really! Was going to get rid of it anyway . . . Stop, okay? Please stop . . ."

She choked back another sob and whimpered as she tried to staunch the flow of tears. Cain winced again, babbling about how much he hated this particular shirt and really, she had done him a favor, after all. It did the trick, though, and Gin uttered a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, but the hurt receded from her gaze, and that was enough for Cain.

"I . . . I'll make you another cake," she offered, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes as she hurried off to the kitchen. "I'm sorry . . . I don't know why I did that. I could buy you a new shirt, or---"

"It's fine, Gin. Don't worry about the cake."

"But it was a yellow cake, and I made it for Bellaniece . . ."

He could smell the tears rising again, and he quickly shook his head. "You know, she'd love that, if it's no trouble."

Gin managed a weak laugh. "No tr-tr-trouble."

"Okay . . . I'm going to go change my shirt."

She stopped, a cloud of uncertainty darkening her features for a moment. "You want some tea? I could make some while the cake's baking."

Cain nodded and jerked the door open, offering Gin a little smile before he stepped back into the hallway and made a face at the cake mess.

'_Cain?_'

'_What?_'

' . . . _I think . . . I think we're in trouble_.'

Carefully stepping over the mess, Cain retrieved the broom and dustpan out of the utility closet in his kitchen. '_Yep_,' he agreed slowly as he started cleaning up the cake. '_We're in trouble, all right_ . . .'

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_Ryomaru's ears are softer … Feh_!

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_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	10. Little Victories

**_Chapter 10_**

**_Little Victories

* * *

_**

Kichiro stared at the thick file and stifled the urge to sigh. Peeking up through the thick fringe of his bangs, he appraised the woman sitting patiently. The young American wife of a powerful business mogul, she was easily one of the prettier women he'd seen, and yet she wasn't satisfied. She'd already had breast augmentation, had her nose 'fixed', numerous silicone injections to make her lips fuller, and now she was here again, and Kichiro was almost afraid to ask her just what she wanted this time.

Letting the file drop from his fingers, Kichiro sat back with a sigh. "What brings you by today, Yamasi-san?"

Flashing her brilliant smile as she uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them again, she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and winked at Kichiro playfully. "Come now, Dr. Izayoi . . . shouldn't we be on a first name basis by now?"

Pasting on a tolerant smile, Kichiro shrugged. "It's my policy not to call my patients by their first names."

She pursed her lips in a pretty pout. "Does that mean I can't call you 'Kichiro'?"

"I'd rather keep this entirely professional," he responded mildly. "Now _is_ there something you wanted?"

"I was thinking about having some liposuction done. My thighs are starting to get a little pudgy."

Kichiro nearly snorted at that. The woman was too skinny as it was. "I'd advise against it," he said with a shake of his head. "You don't really look like you need it, anyway."

Her smile turned coy. "Why Dr. Izayoi . . . are you flirting with me?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," he answered. "My uncle has business dealings with your husband. It'd be a conflict of interest, wouldn't you say? As a surgeon, I feel it's my duty to tell you that it's never a good idea to have unnecessary procedures done."

"Then it's a good thing I don't pay for your advice," she retorted with a tight smile. "I've got a gala in six weeks, and I must look my best for it. Shall I go ahead and schedule this?"

"Be my guest," he replied, closing the file and pushing it away. Yamasi-san untangled her legs and stood up, winking at Kichiro before sauntering toward the door.

Kichiro shook his head, turned his gaze toward the window with a defeated sigh. The problem was that he'd seen women like her just a little too often. If he hadn't agreed to do the procedure, she'd have simply gone to another surgeon, and many surgeons, he'd come to realize, didn't really care whether something should be done or not. She'd have gotten her liposuction, sure, but if she wasn't careful, she'd have ended up with what she wanted even if it wasn't healthy.

'_Balls, Kich, you can't always save people from themselves. I don't know why you even try_.'

'_I'm a doctor. It's my job_.'

'_You know it; I know it. With some of these women, it's an obsession. They're running around with more plastic in their bodies than your average Barbie doll, and for what?_'

'_I'm not a psychiatrist. I can't do anything but make sure they don't go to someone else who won't give a damn about their health, so long as they get paid_.'

'_Nice to be so idealistic. Do you really think you'll change a thing?_'

'_No, I . . . I really don't_.'

"Oh, now don't you look angry?"

Shifting his gaze to the side, Kichiro regarded Belle for a moment before letting his attention wander back out the window again.

"Do you ever smile?" she coaxed, her tone playful, light, teasing.

"Of course I do," he assured her. "Don't you have something better to do? Work, maybe?"

Perching on the corner of his desk, she turned to face him. Whether by accident or design, her pose drew attention to her breasts. Kichiro caught himself staring and quickly looked away. "We're all caught up. Everything's done. I just wondered if you needed anything before I go home."

"From you?" he scoffed, wrinkling his nose. "Not hardly."

Belle heaved a sigh and shook her head as she leaned back and reached out to grab his ear. "You really do hate me, don't you? Why is that?"

"It's not hate," he countered, ducking away from her probing fingers. "Call it apathy. Hate implies a certain level of caring that you have yet to achieve with me."

Sapphire eyes narrowed on him. Kichiro nearly smiled. "You really do go out of your way to be nasty, don't you?" she mused, her tone much more mild than her expression was. Pale cheeks blossoming in an angry pink flush, Kichiro had to hide his amusement as she lifted her chin in a show of stubborn pride.

"You give yourself a little too much credit, Belle-chan. Are you really so vain that you honestly believe that I'd go out of my way for you?"

She sighed and shook her head, hiding the surge of emotion behind a mask of indifference. "Whatever, Dr. Izayoi, but for the record, your attitude doesn't suit you at all."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

Belle shrugged as she leaned toward him to try to catch his ear again. "Nothing bad, goodness no! You just strike me as more of a playboy."

"Really, well, sorry to disappoint you," he retorted, flicking his ears to evade her grasp. "Knock that off, will you? If you want to mess with someone's ears, I suggest you call my brother. Let me get his number, though I'm not so sure Nezumi will put up with it long . . ."

"Did I strike a nerve?" she asked as her eyes lit up in obvious amusement.

"No, you didn't," he shot back, "and Nezumi said they're the same---_exactly_ the same."

Belle slid off the desk and turned to face him, leaning forward as a wicked grin rose to the surface. "She wouldn't be able to tell, would she? I mean, isn't she human?"

"So?" he snorted with grudging interest.

"So . . . humans have dulled senses, you know. Do you think she'd be able to tell the difference? Or maybe . . . Maybe she was sparing your feelings. Ever thought of that, big boy?"

It must have been evident in his expression that the thought hadn't crossed his mind until she'd pointed it out. Belle giggled victoriously as she turned and fairly skipped out of the office.

'_I_ . . . hate _her_,' he fumed, ears twitching at the thought of her blatant insult.

'_For hating her, you sure admired her rack, didn't you?_'

'_I did not! I just couldn't believe she stuck it out there like that!_'

'_Uh huh_.'

'_Uh huh!_'

'_Face it, Kich . . . she really _is_ something, even if you hate to admit it_.'

'_She's something, all right_ . . .'

'_Just between us, admit it: Belle really ain't as bad as you want to believe she is. What you can't stand is that she can match you, insult for insult, and sometimes she actually gets the better of you_.'

'_Feh! She does not! Whose side are you on?_'

His youkai laughed. '_That's easy enough. I'm on the side that'll get laid if you get your head out of your ass and admit that you like her_.'

He could feel the furious blush steal up his cheeks as he shot to his feet and strode toward the door. '_That wench would drive me insane. A lifetime with _her?_ You've got to be kidding! She doesn't even know when to shut up!_'

'_So find a way to keep her quiet. You'll be happy with her . . . trust me! Have I ever led you astray?_'

Kichiro snorted figuring that his youkai's comment didn't even deserve an answer. He ignored Mai's wishes that he have a good evening as Belle's laughter rang out behind him. "Feh!"

* * *

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* * *

Belle fumbled with her keys as she tried to balance the bag of groceries---coffee for Cain and a few snack items for her---on her hip. Still quite pleased over her victory over Kichiro Izayoi, she figured nothing could really upset her as the keys slipped out of her fingers and clattered on the hardwood floor. 

"Oh, let me help you!"

Belle's head snapped to the side, and she blinked in surprise at the hanyou woman beside her. The same one she'd seen from her window the day her father had unceremoniously breezed in the same way, Belle's gaze narrowed suspiciously. '_She smells a lot like Kichiro, too_,' she mused as the girl bent down to retrieve the keys.

"I'm Gin," she remarked as Belle stepped back.

"I'm Belle---well, Bellaniece."

Gin unlocked the door and pushed it open before moving out of the way with a friendly smile.

"Wait!" Belle called over her shoulder as she hurriedly set the bag on the table. "You're not . . . an Izayoi, are you?"

Gin looked surprised but nodded. "Yeah . . . I am . . . how did you know?"

Belle couldn't stave back the snort of disgust as her suspicions were confirmed. "Small world," she muttered.

Gin didn't seem to notice. She started to smile then suddenly wince as she carted around and skittered over to the apartment next door. "Oh no! My cake!"

'_Cake?_' Belle echoed as something else flashed through her mind: Cain bent over, staring out the peephole muttering about idiot pups and cake fairies . . . '_Oh, my_ . . .' "Gin! Wait!" she called as she ran after the girl, pausing long enough to close the door behind her. Gin had left her own door open, and Belle poked her head inside, looking around and smiling as Gin stood up, cake pan in mitt-covered hand.

Gin grinned happily and set the cake on the stove. "Your father says just a few more cakes, and then I'll get my wings!"

"Wings?" Belle repeated, shaking her head in confusion.

Gin giggled as she tugged the oven mitt off her hand. "He said I'm the cake fairy."

"Wait . . . _my_ father said you'd get your wings? Mine? Cain Zelig? _That_ father?"

"Yeah. I'm in his art class at the university. I'm his teacher's aide."

"Really . . ."

Gin leaned on the counter and shrugged, frowning suddenly as she tilted her head to the side. "How did you know that I'm an Izayoi?"

Belle couldn't keep the scowl off her face as she wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms over her chest. "I work for your brother."

"Really? You don't sound like you like him very much."

"He's not very nice," Belle remarked. "I mean, at least not to me."

"Hmm . . . well, he can be pretty harsh, especially when you first meet him. What do you do for him, anyway?"

"Answer the phone mostly," Belle answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "He makes me glad I was an only child."

"Papa taught me a trick or two. The twins don't mess with me very often."

"Your father taught you how to fight?"

Gin nodded as she pulled powdered sugar and cocoa powder from the cupboard. "Of course! Cain didn't teach you?"

"My father, teach me how to fight? Heavens, no!" Belle laughed. "Daddy wants to be my hero . . . You call him by his first name?"

"Yeah," Gin remarked with an impish grin, dumping sugar and cocoa powder into a bowl. "As for my brother, just tell him that you'll tell Nezumi that he's not being very nice. That'll shut him up pretty fast."

Belle leaned on the counter to watch Gin whip up the frosting. "Nezumi? Why?"

"She keeps him in line. He's been a lot better behaved since he married her."

"I thought she was Ryomaru's mate."

"She is."

"Oh, no . . . I work for Kichiro."

Gin dropped the wooden spoon with a clatter and shook her head at Belle. "_Kichiro's_ the mean brother you work for?"

Belle nodded slowly as Gin retrieved the spoon and dumped it into the sink before digging through the drawers for a clean one. "He's insufferable! I don't think he's ever said one single nice thing to me! Not once!"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure!"

Gin added a glug of milk and a teaspoon of vanilla and started stirring. "But he's the _nice_ one. I don't understand . . ."

"Not to me, he isn't," Belle remarked with a snort. "I can't decide if he's just naturally crabby or if I've somehow offended him in a past life . . ."

"That really doesn't sound like Kichiro," Gin said with a marked frown. "At least, not usually though he has a habit of being extra cranky in the morning."

"Cranky doesn't begin to cover it," Belle scoffed. "He's arrogant, rude, condescending . . . Do you know, he calls me 'little girl' . . . and we mustn't forget, 'Belle-chan'."

"Oh . . . calling you –chan is just his way of being playful."

"Not when he says it like I'm a communicable disease."

"That really doesn't sound like Kichiro. I swear, he's the nice one . . . Do you want me to talk to him? I mean, you seem nice enough . . . I can't see why he wouldn't like you. It just doesn't make much sense, does it?"

"Don't do that," Belle said as she waved her hand dismissively. "I'd much prefer that he thinks I don't care, because I don't . . . or at least, I shouldn't."

Gin frowned thoughtfully. The telephone rang, and Gin held up a finger as she scuttled over to answer it. Belle straightened up and wandered around. The apartment looked nearly identical to her father's, and she plopped down on the sofa while Gin chatted away on the phone.

A sketch book lay forgotten on the coffee table. Belle smiled as she picked it up and leafed through it. Children playing in the park . . . a pastel sunset over the thick trees of a forest . . . One picture gave her pause, and Belle narrowed her gaze as she stared. '_I know this guy . . . wait! Of course I do! Daddy? She sketches Daddy?_' Flipping through the pages, Belle grinned as she noticed that, aside from a few notable exceptions, Gin's sketchpad was filled with images of her father. '_She's really good,_' Belle thought absently. '_Bet Daddy has no idea, what's in this sketchbook . . . That's interesting . . . _very_ interesting _. . .'

Closing the book and setting it back on the table, Belle could feel the roots of an unrealized plan forming. '_I think Gin really likes Daddy_ . . .' Mulling over Gin's claim that Cain had told her she was close to earning her fairy's wings, Belle couldn't help but shake her head. '_That really doesn't sound like Daddy, does it? But then, she brings him cake all the time, too. Why would she do that, and why would Daddy let her? Unless_ . . .'

Gin hung up the telephone and grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator before hurrying back over and sitting beside Belle. "Sorry . . . that was my mother," Gin apologized as she extended a bottle to Belle.

"You know, Gin . . . Daddy was going to take me to dinner tonight. Why don't you come along?"

Gin grimaced as she popped open the water bottle, leaning forward as she scrunched up her shoulders and shrugged. "I don't want to intrude. If you two were having a daddy-daughter evening, I'd hate to interrupt. Cain didn't say anything about it, but---"

"Don't be silly!" Belle laughed. "I'm sure he won't care! Your sketches are really well done."

Gin bit her lip as she blinked at the sketchpad. Her cheeks pinked as she slowly forced herself to look at Belle. "You looked at my . . . sketches?" she choked out.

Belle waved her hand dismissively. "Just the first couple. You should ask Daddy. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to give you some pointers, if you want them, that is . . ."

"You think so?" Gin asked, eyebrows drawing together as she pondered Belle's words.

"Oh, sure! He lectured me once on the proper way to hold a pencil. I'm pretty certain he'd be happy to help you."

"Really? I wanted to ask him to teach me his techniques, but I've been a little afraid to ask . . ."

"Afraid of Daddy? Why?"

Gin grimaced, cheeks pinking prettily. "Well . . . I've ruined a couple of his shirts," she confessed.

"How did you do that?"

"One of my cups broke, and he spilled tea over one, then I . . ." She trailed off, grimacing as she slowly shook her head. "I . . . sort of . . . I smashed a cake all over him."

Belle's mind blanked for a moment before she coughed to cover a rising giggle. The vision of Cain with cake smashed all over him was just one that Belle couldn't quite comprehend. "Accidents happen," Belle managed to say with a straight face.

Gin's ears flattened momentarily before poking back up and twitching nervously. "It wasn't an accident . . . I lost my temper."

Belle couldn't contain her laughter at that. It was one thing to think that Gin had accidentally done such a thing. It was entirely different to know that it had been done intentionally. "That's too good!" Belle gasped out, dabbing at her tearing eyes with her knuckle. "Did he deserve it?"

Gin blinked as though she hadn't considered that before. "Sort of . . . not really . . . He followed me the other day when I had tea with a guy . . ."

"My _father_ followed you? Oh, my . . ."

Gin didn't appear to have noticed Belle's awe. "Just like my brothers and father, really. Do you know, they've threatened every single guy I've ever tried to date?" She shrugged, her ears drooping slightly as she stared at her hands with a marked scowl. "Just protective, I guess."

"You just need to find someone who can hold their own against your family," Belle encouraged. "Someone strong and brave and . . . _heroic_."

Gin finally smiled, and Belle couldn't help the welling of hope that burgeoned inside her. '_She's really different, this girl_ . . .' Remembering the way Cain had growled as he peeked into the hallway . . . remembering the blush as he crammed half a slice of cake into his mouth to avoid answering Belle's interrogation, Belle smiled, too. '_Oh, Daddy . . . I don't think she really needs my help, but . . . Better to be safe than sorry, right?_'

'_Do you think your father will welcome your intrusion?_'

'_He will in the end. I like Gin, and more importantly, I think Daddy does, too_ . . .'

'_Belle, don't get your hopes up. You know things aren't as simple as you want them to be_.'

'_That's not true at all. It's all elementary. If Daddy had a mate, he wouldn't die, would he? All Daddy really needs is a gentle shove in the right direction . . . _her_ direction, or so it would seem _. . .'

* * *

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* * *

Cain dropped the stack of junk mail in a careless heap on the counter and shifted his gaze around the empty apartment with a marked frown. Bellaniece had been here. He could sense her presence. He could also sense that she wasn't here now. 

Emptying the grocery bag on the table, Cain shook his head at his daughter's idea of shopping. A canister of coffee and a few boxes of snacks---there was absolutely nothing substantial in the bag, and he sighed. '_I have really got to do something about the lack of food in this place_,' he thought with a grimace as he stowed the few paltry groceries in the cupboard.

"Hi, Daddy!" Belle greeted as she breezed through the door. Hurrying over to lean on his arm and rising up on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek and grinned. "I was going to put that stuff away . . . How about you take me out to dinner tonight?"

"How about I take you out and teach you what real groceries are?" he countered.

"Yeah, about that," Bellaniece remarked as she let go of her father's arm and hopped up on the counter, swinging her feet with a careless air. "That would imply that one of us would have to cook the stuff," she pointed out, "and since neither of us knows anything about that . . ."

Cain sighed and shrugged. "Go get ready, then," he agreed.

Bellaniece dropped down and grinned. "Okay, I'll be ready in a few minutes . . . by the way, I met someone interesting today."

Cain picked up the pile of mail to sort. "Oh?" he mumbled as he dropped the junk into the trash one by one without opening them.

"Sure . . . Want to know who?"

"Uh-huh."

"The cake fairy."

The rest of the mail fell into the trash as Cain's brain froze. "Th-the cake f-fairy?" he sputtered.

"Yep, the cake fairy . . . she's cute. So . . . how many more cakes till she gets her wings?"

Praying that his face wasn't nearly as red as he suspected it was, Cain choked back a groan and tried to pretend like he had no idea what Bellaniece was saying. "Wings?"

Bellaniece's laughter was positively exultant. "It's fine, Daddy, I totally approve. Anyway, you'd better change. That shirt is all rumpled, and those pants look like you slept in them. You don't want Gin to think you can't dress yourself, do you?"

"Gin?" he barked out.

"Sure. I invited her to dinner, too. Must be lonely, to eat all by herself . . . Now hurry up. I'm starving . . ."

"Bellaniece---"

She poked her head back into the hallway and winked at him. "You might not want to wear red, Daddy. It'd clash with your cheeks. Now hurry!"

Cain stifled a groan as he slapped his hands over his face. '_My daughter's turned against me! Oh, my God, she's met Gin_ . . .'

'_Well, crap. If we weren't in trouble before, I'd say we are now_.'

'_You think?_'

'_Yeah, I think . . . at least Bellaniece is going with you. You won't be alone with Gin. Use Bellaniece as a buffer_.'

'_I can't use my daughter!_'

'_Hell, Cain, your daughter set you up . . . She's been trying to coerce you into finding another mate for years. Turn about is fair play_.'

'_Dinner doesn't bother me_,' Cain argued. '_Dinner's fine. Everyone eats, right? Not a big deal_.'

'_It's not a big deal?_'

'_Nope_.'

'_Then why are your hands sweating?_'

Cain blinked and loosened his fists, turning over his hands to stare at his damp palms. '. . . _Shut up_.'

Bellaniece stepped out of her bedroom and shook her head as she stared at her father who still hadn't moved from the spot where she'd left him. "Come on, Daddy . . . You can't go out to dinner in that. Even the tai-youkai has to adhere to some sort of propriety. You've got an image to uphold."

Cain followed Bellaniece without comment, brushing aside the feeling that he was walking into a trap---and not even a very well constructed trap, either.

Bellaniece opened his closet with a flourish but heaved a sigh and shook her head as she stared in dismay at the minimal selection. "Oh, Daddy, I'm going to have to do something about this."

"They're all clean," he remarked.

Bellaniece sighed again. Settling on a white cotton shirt that wasn't quite as wrinkled as the rest, she pulled it off the hanger and held it out to her father. He took it grudgingly as she shifted through his slacks. Shaking her head, she snorted indelicately. "Daddy . . . no more khakis, okay? I mean it. . ."

Cain dropped the shirt he'd been wearing and pulled the clean one on. "It's just dinner, Bellaniece . . . It _is_ just dinner, right?"

"Of course, of course . . . I didn't sell you into her harem or anything," Bellaniece remarked as she rolled her eyes.

Cain clamped his mouth closed, unwilling to voice his opinion on the idea of Gin having a harem of men . . . "Women don't have harems," he pointed out.

"Gin could . . . she's cute enough, don't you think?"

'_It is so important to our sanity that you just not answer that, Cain_,' his youkai growled.

"Are you going to give me some pants or not?" he grouched instead.

Bellaniece wrinkled her nose and pulled the only pair of black pants out of Cain's closet. "Here. These will have to do. I'll go shopping for you this weekend. Your closet is just sad, Daddy, but don't worry. I'll make your closet happy again."

He heard the muffled knock, and Bellaniece clapped her hands and skittered off to let Gin inside, he supposed. '_Just why am I doing this?_' he asked himself as he changed his pants.

'_Because you're stupid, Cain, that's why. That girl---Gin---she needs to be surrounded by flashing yellow caution lights. You know it; I know it . . . She's an accident waiting to happen_.'

'_An accident waiting to happen? You make her sound like she's doing all this on purpose_.'

'_Pfft! Nope. That's why she's so damn dangerous, Cain. Gin's clueless about what a girl like her really can do to you. Tell Bellaniece you don't want to go. You're her father. She has to listen to you_.'

Cain rolled his eyes as he tucked in the shirt. '_It's just dinner. That's not so bad_.'

'_You sound like you want to go,_' his youkai grumbled suspiciously. '_You do, don't you? You're complaining because you should, but you really do want to go_.'

'_Of course I don't! I'm just hungry, that's all_.'

'_Just hungry, huh? You're in denial, you know . . . and you might as well redo your ponytail. Bellaniece will make you do that, anyway_.'

'_I thought you don't want me to go_,' Cain pointed out as he pulled the tie out of his hair and grabbed the brush off his dresser.

'_I don't, but you'll go anyway. Might as well look presentable . . . By the way, Bellaniece is right. You do need some new clothes_.'

"Pfft."

* * *

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* * *

Belle waited until after the door closed behind her father to unleash the smile that she couldn't contain. 

'_Celebrate while you can, Belle. Your father is going to kill you when he gets home_.'

'_Nonsense! He'll have a great time!_'

'_Great time or not, you put him on the spot, and he knows it. The only one who doesn't know it is Gin, and I think that's only because she's so sweet she'd never think that you, of all people, had manipulated her_.'

'_Manipulate is such an ugly word . . . What about, giving them a gentle shove in the right direction?_'

'_Potatoes, potahtoes, it's all the same thing. Put a pretty face on it if you can, Belle. The truth is that your father really_ will _be furious, and you know it._'

Belle's brow furrowed as she wandered restlessly around the living room. '_Is it really wrong of me, to want Daddy to find someone to make him happy; someone to make him want to live? Sure, it might be a little selfish_ . . .'

'_Maybe it isn't really that selfish, Belle. He's your father. It's understandable. Did you have to use such underhanded tactics, though_?'

Belle grimaced and flopped down on the sofa. '_Okay, so it was a little obvious, at least to him_ . . .'

_Waiting until they were ready to leave, Belle had grabbed her stomach and told Gin and her father that she was starting to get cramps. Since they were the only real ailment that Cain wouldn't touch, she figured it was safe enough. The look he'd shot her, though, was full of suspicion, and despite her efforts to look completely innocent, she knew he hadn't really believed her at all_.

_Gin's expression had immediately shifted into quiet concern, and she shot Cain a glance before saying, "I could cook dinner for you, if you don't want to leave her_."

_Cain had looked like he was going to accept Gin's hospitality. Belle made a face. "Oh, no, you two go on ahead. I'll just lie down a bit. I'm not really hungry, anyway_."

"_Don't be ridiculous, Bellaniece. I can't leave you alone if you're sick," Cain commented, eyes glinting as he narrowed his stare. He knew what she was doing. He knew it, and he knew that she knew she'd been caught_.

"_Oh, Daddy, don't be silly! It's just cramps; that's all! Every female gets them, and every female deals with them. There's nothing you can do, so go on and . . . enjoy yourselves_."

"_Still," Gin said slowly, shaking her head_.

"_I insist," Belle assured her, waving her hands toward the door. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine_."

"_Are you sure?" Cain asked tightly. Belle grimaced inside at the warning behind his feigned concern_.

"_Get him out of here," Belle joked, turning to Gin. "Daddy rarely gets out anymore. I hate to ruin your evening. Do me a favor, will you? Make sure Daddy has a good time, despite himself_."

_Gin hesitated, shooting Cain a worried glance. Belle bit her lip when her father intercepted the look and blushed just a little. To her amusement, Cain heaved a sigh and shrugged. "I suppose she'll be okay," he allowed, "if you still want to go?_"

"_If you're sure . . ." Gin agreed slowly_.

_Belle nearly laughed. "Go on, I'm fine! Daddy has his cell phone. I'll call if I need anything_."

_C__ain jerked his head in agreement and opened the door for Gin. The last look he'd cast her, however, promised mayhem when he got home. Belle wiggled her fingers, entirely too pleased with herself to bother trying to hide it from Cain, and as he pulled the door closed behind them, she burst into a round of laughter_.

Her laughter wound down, and she slumped back against the sofa. "This isn't good . . . I need to celebrate!"

'_Celebration is fine, Belle, but you don't know anyone here_.'

Expression shifting into a pout, Belle heaved a sigh and toyed with the hem of her skirt. '_This is what I hate about being in Tokyo. All my friends are back home. Even if I called them, they probably wouldn't understand. The only one who is youkai is Kelly, and I really can't call her _. . .'

There were definite drawbacks to being raised in secrecy. It was normal for youkai to hide their natures, and Belle had attended school where she and Kelly were the only youkai and hanyou. Kelly would understand Belle's small victory with Cain. Her human friends wouldn't. They didn't know the desperation Belle felt when she thought about the years to come. They didn't know about youkai.

'_I've got to share this with someone_,' she thought as she stood up and wandered around restlessly. '_This is huge, really, just huge, and . . . and maybe there is someone I could call _. . .'

Grabbing her cell phone off the counter, Belle dialed the number before she could talk herself out of it. Ignoring the voice that told her she was setting herself up for ridicule, she waited impatiently for the call to connect.

"Izayoi."

"Hi, um . . . It's me, Belle. I was just wondering if you were busy."

Kichiro didn't answer right away. She imagined he was probably considering crushing his phone. "Is there something you wanted, little girl?" he finally asked.

Brushing aside the prick of irritation at his appalling nickname for her, Belle wrinkled her nose. "I was just in a really good mood and wanted to share it with someone."

He sighed. "All right, I'll bite. Who did you manipulate into doing what you wanted this time?"

Wincing at the accuracy of his assessment, Belle frowned, gripping the phone tighter. "It's not like that. You really don't think much of me, do you?" She shook her head. "Don't answer that. I really am in a good mood. It's my father . . . he's on a date."

"You set him up, didn't you? You just have to manipulate every single person around you, don't you?"

"It isn't like that, honestly! Forget it. It was a mistake to call you."

"Why did you call me?"

Belle hesitated and made a face, wondering just why she was answering him at all. "Because . . . you're the only person I really know here."

"Pity me, then."

She sighed. "I'm trying to be nice, here. Do you have to be like that?"

"Sorry. Must be habit. I tend to get this way when people try to control everyone in a fifty kilometer radius."

"Would it matter that I had the very best of intentions? Daddy needs a mate. That's all I want . . ."

Kichiro was quiet a moment before answering, and when he did, he caught her off guard with the quiet respect in his voice---a tone she hadn't ever heard from him before. "You mean that, don't you?"

"You want to go get something to eat?" Belle asked suddenly, unsure just why her cheeks felt hot as she pressed the palm of her free hand to her face.

"All right," he agreed. "Where do you live?"

She told him the address and twirled around in a small circle.

"Really? My sister lives there . . . You mind if we stop and see her? She might want to come along. Kami knows she doesn't get out much . . ."

Kichiro's commentary brought Belle to an abrupt halt. "I've met your sister," she hedged. "I think she had plans tonight . . ."

"Really. Did she tell you what she was doing? She'd better not be trying to sneak around to see some worthless little bastard."

"I'm sure that she's not . . . with someone like that . . ."

Kichiro sighed. "Sorry. Guess I get carried away about Gin. I seriously doubt there's a man on earth, human or otherwise, who deserves her."

Belle bit her lip and cleared her throat nervously. "So . . . about dinner . . ."

"Yeah, give me about a half hour."

"Okay," she agreed. Turning off the phone and setting it on the counter again, Belle grimaced and tried not to feel guilty.

'_If Kichiro figures out what you've done_ . . .'

'_I didn't _know_ he'd get that irritated over the idea that his sister was on a date_.'

'_Yeah, and not just any date, Belle! She's out with your father! How is that going to look?_'

'_That's different, too_,' Belle thought defensively. '_Daddy is tai-youkai---the most powerful youkai in North America. If Daddy's not worthy, then Kichiro's right: no one else ever would be_.'

Her youkai voice didn't answer. After glancing at the clock, Belle hurried off to get ready, trying not to ask herself just why she'd called Kichiro Izayoi, of all people.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Go, me_!

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	11. Flirting with Disaster

**_Chapter 11_**

**_Flirting with Disaster_**

* * *

Kichiro held the chair for Belle as she sat down at the small table of the traditional Japanese restaurant. She smiled at him as he stepped over to his chair and waited until he was seated before she spoke. "I'm surprised you agreed to come with me," she admitted. "Careful or I'll start wondering whether or not you really do hate me."

"I never hated you, Belle-chan," he argued as he reached for a menu.

She giggled. "You have a strange way of showing your apathy then."

"I suppose," he agreed. "So tell me why you want to find your father a mate."

Belle shrugged and nodded as the waiter set down a glass of water. "Because I'd like him to stick around."

Kichiro absorbed that for a moment. "When did your mother die?"

Belle sighed and fixed her gaze on the sweat condensing on the outside of the glass. "She died after I was born. Daddy doesn't like to talk about it. I suppose that's natural, right?"

That did surprise Kichiro. After so many years, did the man really wish to die? It seemed a little melodramatic. He survived the shock of losing his mate. That, in and of itself, was amazing. "He doesn't have to die, does he? He's already beaten the odds, staying alive this long."

"He made a promise; he has to keep his word. Daddy's really big on vows. I think they're more important to him than anything."

Kichiro frowned at the rest of Belle's rueful observation---the part she didn't put into words. '_More important to him than anything . . . including me_.'

"Are you sure that you're not misinterpreting what he's told you?"

Belle smiled sadly, running her fingertip around the rim of the glass. "I didn't misinterpret anything. I really wish I had."

"Do you think it's fair, to try to trick him into living?"

"Maybe not," she agreed lightly. "Then again, knowing that he won't be around to see my children and all that . . . Is that any fairer?"

He didn't answer as she deliberately lifted a menu to end the conversation. Kichiro took his time reading down the list of entrees but couldn't remember what he'd just read.

'_That would suck. You know it would. If you knew that your father was biding his time so he could go join your mother in death_ . . .'

'_But it is his choice_.'

'_Maybe, and maybe you're not willing to see her side of it, Kich. Balls, you know that if the situation were reversed, you'd try like hell to keep the old man around_.'

'_This isn't about me, it's about her and her penchant for trying to manipulate everything to suit her_.'

'_Oh? And just how did she manipulate you into coming here with her?_'

'_She didn't . . . that's the point. She isn't so bad when she's not trying to hide behind her façades and her manipulations_.'

'_Ooh, careful . . . I might start thinking you _like_ her_.'

'_One thing at a time, okay?_'

'_Okay . . . and in case you didn't notice, that dress gives a great view of her rack _. . .'

'. . . _Hentai_.'

'_Just look!_'

'_All right_,' he conceded with an inward snort. His youkai had a valid point. The low cut mauve dress she wore did provide a very nice glimpse of her breasts, and Kichiro indulged himself for a few moments in watching the rise and fall of her breathing.

'_You're looking . . . and you like what you see, you dog. I'm so proud of you, Kich. I was starting to wonder_ . . .'

'_Shut the hell up. Just because I looked doesn't mean anything_.'

'_So?_'

''_So', what?_'

'_So . . . what do you think?_'

Kichiro stifled a sigh as he directed his attention back to his menu again. '_So . . . it'll do_.'

"So what unsuspecting woman did you toss into your father's path?" Kichiro asked, mostly to distract himself from his current train of thought.

Belle shot him a startled glance but smiled and carefully flipped her long bronze hair over her shoulder. "That's not really important, is it?"

"Maybe not," Kichiro agreed. "Where'd you meet her?"

"In my building. Actually, Daddy met her first. I think she fascinates him."

"Fascination is overrated. Just don't get your hopes up, Belle-chan. If your father made a promise, then I'd say you're fighting a losing battle."

He regretted those words almost immediately. Belle's chin dropped and her shoulders slumped. Staring down at the table top, she seemed so sad, so alone . . . Kichiro grimaced, trying not to think about the reason why her sudden change in mood affected him. "Maybe you're right," he agreed slowly. "Maybe this girl can make him see his way past all that but I'll tell you, this girl better be someone really special because that might take a lot of convincing."

Belle peeked up at him, eyes dark, mysterious in the dimly lit restaurant. "I think she is," Belle ventured. "I think . . . I think Daddy _wants_ her to convince him."

"What makes you so sure?"

She smiled just a little and set her menu aside. "He wants to give her wings. He said so."

"Wings, huh. Sounds like your father is a dreamer."

"That's what's odd. I think he stopped dreaming after my mother died."

He considered her words as he placed their order. Belle didn't comment though he could tell that she was happy with the meal he'd ordered for her, the same as what he'd ordered for himself. Out of habit he'd nearly ordered her the salad and diet soda that most girls tended to favor. She was hanyou, like him, and ordering just a salad would have likely gotten him in real trouble.

"Tell me about Kelly," he prompted as the waiter hurried away.

A vague shadow passed over Belle's features. She masked it quickly and smiled. "Kelly . . . we grew up together. She's the only other youkai I know. She was always trying to get me to do things, and sometimes I went along with her. Other times, I didn't . . ."

"Sounds like Ryomaru."

Belle shrugged. "Maybe. Daddy says I'm too impulsive. He's probably right. I can't help it! I want to do things and see things . . . I want to _live_."

"So that's it? The reason you want your friend to have reconstructive surgery is because you want her to be like she was before?"

"No . . . not that. It's the world. They'll look at her and only see the scars, you know? I doubt there's anyone who would look at her and see the girl I used to know, and they would either be horrified or feel sorry for her, and Kelly . . . she'd hate both."

"How cynical of you."

Belle sipped her water as a mysterious little smile surfaced in her eyes. "No more cynical than you, I'd guess. How long did it take for you to develop your skewed perceptions of the world?"

"I'm not that cynical."

"Aren't you? If you're not, then why do you hate it when I do the same things you do?"

"Like what?"

Belle shrugged. "You don't really think I didn't notice you staring at my rack, did you?"

"Can't help but see something so obviously on display," he shot back without any real rancor.

"That's true," she agreed with giggle. "Anyway, Daddy says it best."

"What's that?"

"Beauty should be shared, and my rack is definitely beautiful."

"Listen, little girl---"

"You want to see them?"

"In the restaurant?" he challenged.

She waved a hand dismissively. "Here . . . there . . . wherever . . . What do you say, Dr. Izayoi? Maybe you'd stop calling me 'little girl' if I introduced you to . . . 'the girls'."

He could tell she was just teasing, and teasing he could tolerate. Kichiro was about to call her on her bluff when he stopped himself. '_What if it isn't really a bluff?_'

'_If it's a bluff, she'd back down. If it wasn't a bluff, we'd get to see the rack. Kich, I gotta say, there's not _really_ a downside to it_.'

Maybe not . . . except that he'd rather that the populace of the establishment didn't get to see the 'beautiful rack'.

"Leash the girls," Kichiro said mildly. "Now is neither the time nor the place for that."

"You're more anal than I thought, Kichiro."

"And you're a walking, talking, breathing scandal," he intoned despite the tug of a smile on his lips.

'_You didn't say she wasn't beautiful_.'

'_That's because I'd be lying_.'

'_Gotta fear a girl who knows the power of her rack_.'

'_This Kichiro will never fear the Belle-chan's rack_.'

'_Yeah . . . maybe you should_.'

'. . . _Shut up._'

* * *

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* * *

"Do you think she's okay?" Gin asked quietly as she glanced up from the menu.

Cain didn't lift his gaze. "I'm pretty sure she's feeling just fine."

She frowned at his enigmatic tone and laid the menu aside. "Cain, are you all right? If you're worried about Bellaniece, we can go . . ."

"No . . . Bellaniece is probably eating something unhealthy and watching a movie."

Gin tilted her head to the side and stared at Cain with obvious concern. "If you're sure . . ."

"Do you know what you want?" he asked, ignoring her question as he poked at his menu.

Gin bit her lip and turned her attention back to her menu. He'd let her choose the restaurant, and she'd picked out a small Italian bistro since she wasn't sure what sort of food he was accustomed to. He seemed pleased enough with her choice even though she wasn't familiar with most of the offerings on the menu. Since her father tended to avoid spicier fare, it wasn't a place she had frequented with her family.

"Umm . . . I don't really know what most of this stuff is," she admitted.

Cain glanced up from his menu, blinking as her statement sank in. "Really?"

She shook her head. "Papa doesn't like spicy food, so we didn't really go out very often, and Mama is a good cook . . . Of course, Papa was happiest with ramen, even if Mama didn't like that . . ." She winced as she hunched her shoulders. "I'm babbling again, aren't I?"

Cain finally smiled. "Just a little."

She could feel her ears droop as she winced. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine . . . Do you want me to order for you?"

Gin brightened. "Would you?"

"Sure . . . not too spicy, right?"

"I trust you."

Cain's smile dissipated quickly as a pink tinge crept into his cheeks, and he coughed. "Okay, sure."

"Who the hell is _he?_"

Gin gasped and jerked back, sitting up straight in her chair as her head swiveled around to stare in shock at the hanyou stomping toward their table with a hostile frown and a black haired miko close behind. Kagome tried to grab InuYasha's arm to slow his approach. He shook her off gently but firmly as he closed in on Gin and Cain's table. Gin shot Cain a worried glance as she stood and pasted on an overly bright smile. "Papa!" she greeted, painfully aware of the other customers who were staring openly at the spectacle.

InuYasha let Gin hug him, but his attention was completely fixed on the tai-youkai who was slowly rising to his feet, too.

"Papa, what are you doing here? I thought you hated spicy foods."

"I convinced him to try something new," Kagome hurried to explain. "Small world, isn't it?"

"Answer my question," InuYasha demanded, ignoring the stilted, if not completely polite, conversation.

Gin made a face, seeing no way out of the introduction she was loath to make. "This is---"

"Oi, Gin, I didn't ask you," he growled. Gin grimaced and peeked around her father's protective arm to plead for Kagome's assistance.

Kagome rolled her eyes and grabbed InuYasha's hand. "InuYasha . . ." she began in her warning tone.

"And I didn't ask you, either, wench."

"I'm Cain Zelig," Cain stated in a tone that dripped with strained irritation. "I'm---"

"My teacher. Just my teacher. Only my teacher. At the university. That's all," Gin plunged in. "Really, Papa, I swear it, just my teacher, nothing else. My art teacher. Isn't that great?"

Kagome slapped a hand over her mouth. InuYasha's ears twitched. Cain's jaw started ticking, and Gin could feel the hot blush wash over her skin.

Several long seconds passed while InuYasha and Cain continued to glare at each other. Kagome reached over and gently pulled Gin to the side. "I wouldn't say another word, Gin," Kagome advised quietly.

Gin winced. "Did I overdo it?"

"Just a little."

"Oh, no . . ."

"Look, InuYasha, our table is ready," Kagome stated in a falsely bright tone.

"Changed my mind, wench. I think we'll join our pup for dinner," InuYasha growled without looking away from Cain.

"Be our guests," Cain returned in an equally unpleasant rumble.

"Papa---"

Kagome touched Gin's forearm. "Remember what I said about not saying anything else?"

Gin bit her lip but remained quiet.

"What the fuck are you doing here with my pup?" InuYasha demanded.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm _teaching_ her," Cain bit out. Gin winced at the blatant barb directed at her.

InuYasha cracked his knuckles as Kagome hurriedly grabbed his arm. "InuYasha, I'm really, really hungry."

"This won't take long," InuYasha shot back.

"You can't hurt him, Papa! He's the North American tai-youkai, and my professor!" Gin implored quietly, glancing around at the myriad of ogling customers as she tugged InuYasha's arm.

"Quiet, baby girl. This don't concern you!"

"But---"

"Yeah," Cain goaded. "Her teacher. Nothing but her teacher. Absolutely _nothing_ going on. Just teaching, right, Miss Izayoi? Swell, isn't it?"

"InuYasha!" Kagome hissed. "Come on!"

This time InuYasha allowed her to drag him away but he stopped beside the table next to Gin and Cain and sat down. "This table will be fine," he growled.

Kagome rolled her eyes and sighed. "Enjoy your dinner," she called back. "Nice meeting you!"

Gin grimaced as she slowly turned to peek at Cain, who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, glowering at InuYasha, who was glaring right back. Gin flopped down in her chair and tried to make herself as invisible as possible.

"Sorry about that," Gin muttered as Cain finally sat down.

Cain snorted in response.

The waitress took their order and hurried away as Gin stole glances at Cain and tried to discern what had irritated him so much.

'_I think he's mad about your insistence that he is nothing but your teacher_,' her mind whispered.

'_Maybe_,' she agreed. '_But he isn't really anything else, is he? I mean, he _is_ my teacher, and . . . oh, and Papa would have had a fit if he even thought that there was more to it than that. There isn't, of course. I just didn't want Papa to think otherwise, and . . . and . . . And Cain's really mad at me, isn't he?_'

'_Are you sure there isn't more to it than that, Gin? I mean, look at Cain. He's positively fuming!_'

Following the advice of her youkai voice, she peeked up at Cain through her eyelashes. He was drumming his claws against the tabletop, glaring down at his fingers with a foreboding scowl. '_I didn't mean to do that_,' she fretted, wringing her hands in her lap.

'_What did you expect, Gin? You stung his pride. Regardless of how he feels about you, he is a male. Look at your father or your brothers. If you had said the same thing about them, how do you suppose they'd have reacted?_'

Gin winced. "Cain?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

His answer didn't reassure her. Tight, clipped, almost angry, he refused to look at her as he drummed his fingers a little harder. She started to speak but a quick glance over her shoulder stopped her. InuYasha's ears were twitching, and when he caught her gaze, he narrowed his eyes in silent warning.

'_Don't worry about Cain; worry about explaining this to your father. He didn't buy your explanation, and he looks like he's about ready to light into Cain_.'

'_There's nothing to explain to Papa. Cain is just my teacher . . . and my friend . . . unless he hates me now, that is_ . . .'

Cain sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Let's just eat so we can get out of here," he mumbled, staring past Gin at InuYasha with an unreadable expression on his face.

Gin leaned back as the waitress set a steaming plate of food in front of her. "O-okay," she agreed, swallowing hard as she slowly reached for her chopsticks. The appetite that had been prevalent was conspicuously gone. Still she stuck a small bit of pasta into her mouth.

Cain didn't speak again, concentrating instead on his food. Gin squelched a sigh. The food had no taste to her, and her stomach felt like it was tied in knots. After a few more bites, she gave up, setting her chopsticks aside and dabbing her lips on the napkin.

"Don't you like it?" Cain asked quietly, his anger either gone or contained, Gin wasn't sure which.

"It's fine," she replied, forcing a smile. "It's great. Thanks."

"If you don't like it, I can order something else for you," he offered.

Gin shook her head. "No, really, I'm just not hungry."

Cain didn't look like he believed her. Gin picked up her utensils again and resumed eating.

'_You were babbling about starving on your way here, Gin. No wonder he doesn't believe you now_.'

Gin wrinkled her nose and took another bite.

'_You need to tell him you're sorry, at least after your parents are gone_.'

'_I will_,' she thought, seeing no way around that. '_But if I do that . . . won't it seem strange?_'

'_As I see it, you have two choices. You can apologize for bruising his ego and be embarrassed for a few minutes, or you can leave it go and have him brooding indefinitely. No matter how he looks at you, Gin, your adamant insistence wasn't a good thing. Even you have to know that, right?_'

Gin sighed. '_I suppose_.'

'_Good girl. Now keep eating. He's still watching you---and so is your father_.'

The mention of InuYasha was impetus enough to keep Gin from setting the chopsticks aside again. InuYasha knew as well as anyone that Gin had always had a healthy appetite. The more suspicious she acted, the more dubious InuYasha would be, and the last thing Gin wanted was another ugly confrontation between Cain and her father.

Cain finished his food and pushed his plate away. Gin hadn't even finished half of her entrée as Cain leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest again. He still looked peeved despite his otherwise bland expression. The table trembled just a little as he tapped his foot impatiently. "You look like your mother," Cain finally remarked.

Gin blinked in surprise and rested her forearm on the table. "I do?"

"Sure. You have your father's coloring, but you definitely look like your mother."

Gin smiled as some of the tightness in her stomach loosened its grip. "If you think I look like her now, you should see me on my human night."

Cain looked surprised at her statement. "Really? How so?"

Gin shrugged. "I have Mama's coloring then, too," she said. "Doesn't Bellaniece have human nights, too?"

"Sure but she doesn't look that much different. Human ears and no fangs but otherwise she looks the same. When is your night?"

Gin winced and peeked back at her parents once more. "I can't tell you," she muttered. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone."

Cain didn't remark on that as Gin stuffed another bite into her mouth. She didn't dare tell Cain about that, did she? If InuYasha wasn't furious already, he'd have to be scraped off the ceiling if he heard her telling Cain about that . . .

* * *

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* * *

Belle stole a glance across the table at Kichiro. Speaking quietly into his cell phone, he intercepted her amused stare and winced in apology. Belle shrugged and shook her head before turning her attention to the restaurant.

It was really nice, she had to admit. Quiet, ambient, very, very sophisticated, the clientele were all well-dressed and polite. Though it had surprised her at first, Belle realized that Kichiro would be more at home in a place like this than he would be in a noisy fast food establishment. She liked the change. Glad that she'd changed into a nicer dress before he'd arrived, Belle was having a much better time than she'd thought she would. Kichiro was charming, pleasant, and the changes were definitely unsettling.

'_You like him, don't you?_'

Belle shifted uncomfortably. '_He's nice enough_.'

'_Nice? Nice doesn't begin to cover it, Belle. He's all those indefinable things, the kind of man you could stand to be around for a long, long time_.'

'_Daddy would love that, wouldn't he?_'

'_Well, he'd be shocked, sure . . . you're still pretty young. Your father would probably be thrilled, once the surprise wore off_.'

'_Just because Kichiro is being nice one time out of two and a half weeks, I don't think it's time to be thinking of anything further in the future than dessert._'

'_Oh, now who's being catty?_'

'_I'm not being catty_.'

'_And I'm not breathing_.'

'_Sorry to hear that_.'

'_Sure you are_.'

Kichiro snapped his cell phone closed and stowed it back in his pocket before turning his attention back to Belle once more. "Sorry about that."

Belle shook her head. "It's fine. Patient of yours?"

Kichiro made a face. "Not hardly. It was Nezumi. Ryomaru got a gash on his forehead in a fight, and she was worried about it."

"You're not?"

"Hardly. Ryomaru wouldn't miss a few brain cells, anyway."

The waiter interrupted the conversation as he slipped the plates onto the table and disappeared again.

Belle stared at her plate for a moment, examining the food with a discerning eye. "This looks . . . good," she ventured as she flicked her napkin and spread it on her lap. "What did you call it?"

Kichiro took up his chopsticks and shrugged. "Teppanyaki---grilled steak. We were too late for the cooking display, if that's what you meant. Something wrong?"

"Um . . . it's . . . really rare," Belle remarked as she stared at the barely cooked meat displayed on the plate. "Excuse me," she said as she caught the waiter's sleeve to stop him as he passed the table.

"Is there something I can do for you, Miss?"

"You speak really good English," Belle commented with a bright smile, slipping her hand around to pat the young man's hand. The waiter blushed. "I hate to be a bother, but this meat, you see . . . I can't eat it this way . . ."

"I can take it back . . . cook it longer? Yes?"

"Oh, please, if it isn't any trouble," Belle cooed as the waiter lifted her plate once more. "You're such a dear. Thank you!"

She watched the waiter hurry away with her food, smiling slightly before she looked back at Kichiro. He was staring at her with a disgusted frown. Tossing his napkin on his untouched food, he slowly shook his head and sat back. "That was nice. What're you doing for the encore?"

Belle cocked her head to the side and frowned. "What?"

Kichiro snorted. "Come on, Belle. You could have just asked him to take it back and cook it more thoroughly, but no, you had to fawn all over him, didn't you? You had to try to manipulate the poor bastard into doing what you wanted him to do."

"I didn't---"

"You know what? Save it. I don't want to hear it. Damn!"

Belle watched in shocked silence as Kich stood up and dug a wad of bills out of his pocket to drop on the table. After casting her one last withering glare, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the restaurant.

Belle sat in shocked silence for almost five minutes after Kichiro's unceremonious exit. '_I didn't . . . what just happened?_'

'_What do you mean, what just happened? You happened, Belle! You did what you always do, and Kichiro didn't appreciate it._'

'_I didn't do anything! I just asked the waiter to take the meat back and cook it a little more _. . .'

'_No, Kichiro was right. You draped yourself all over him, batted your eyelashes, and simpered all over the kid, just to get your way. You could have just asked. It's his job, after all_.'

'_That wasn't what I was trying to do! I didn't even realize I was doing it, for God's sake!_'

'_Yeah, convince yourself of that later, Belle. Right now we've got bigger fish to fry_.'

'_Like what?_'

'_Like the fact that every single person in this place is staring at you like you're an absolute abomination. Get us out of here, will you?_'

Belle stood up, trying to ignore the covert stares she was receiving, as she straightened her back and mustered as much dignity as she could before she strode out of the restaurant, too.

The air on the street was blessedly cool, almost chilly on the early May evening. Belle glanced up and down the street with a sigh. She wasn't looking for Kichiro, not really . . . She knew he wouldn't have stuck around, not with as furious as he was. Still she had hoped . . .

'_Hoped for what? He's too mad to listen to you. You really ticked him off_.'

'_I wanted to explain_,' she thought weakly. '_It wasn't really what he thought. I didn't mean it that way_ . . .'

'_Why do you care, Belle? He's mean to you most of the time. He's arrogant and rude . . . Why'd you even call him, of all people? And why does it bother you so much now?_'

Belle's feet felt heavy as she shuffled down the sidewalk. '_I don't care, exactly! I just don't understand him, that's all_.'

'_You don't care? That's interesting_.'

The click of her heels on the concrete sidewalk sounded hollow, melancholy, entirely alone. The four block walk from the restaurant to the apartment building seemed like an impossible trek. With every step she took, she felt like she was being carried further and further from home, and for one brief, fleeting moment, she wished that she really was a little girl again.

Cain always made everything better for her, didn't he? He'd hold her whenever she fell and scraped her knees. He protected her against anything that threatened. How many times had he come to her in the middle of the night when she had nightmares? He'd crawl into her little bed and let her lie next to his heart, and he never complained about what had to be uncomfortable hours spent soothing a child in the darkness that was all too unkind to her. She was too old to seek that sort of comfort now. There were some things that even daddies couldn't fix.

'_Grow up, Belle. Stop lying to yourself. You want to be a woman but you hide behind the guise of the little girl. You think you can take care of yourself, but in the end you can't even admit the truth_.'

'_What truth?_'

'_That you care about what Kichiro Izayoi thinks of you_.'

'_How do you figure?_'

'_You care. You wish you didn't, but you do. You've always been that way, haven't you? You do things first, without thinking about what it'll seem like, and then you realize a little too late that maybe you were a little too rash_.'

Her pace quickened as the savage desire to lock herself away in the quiet of her bedroom seized her. '_That's not it. That's not it, at all!_'

'_Face it, Belle. You've been in trouble before, you know. It's easier to regret things when you're looking back but the thing you never realized was that it would be much simpler if you'd just learn to think first. You could avoid all the trouble if you did. You could stop having to say you're sorry_.'

'_I'm not sorry! I didn't do anything! I wasn't trying to flirt or manipulate! I wasn't trying to do anything but . . . but_ . . .'

'_Then what? Did you just get a speck of dirt in your eyes?_'

Belle sniffled, dashing the back of her hand over her misting eyes. '_Yeah_,' she thought miserably. '_That's what it is: dirt_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_Gin's father . . . we could take him_ . . .'

'_Shut up, you_.'

'_We could. You know we could. Bet it wouldn't take much to get him to fight us, either_.'

Cain jammed his hands into his pockets as he and Gin wandered through the dimly lit park. She was talking but he wasn't listening. Caught up in silent fretting and introspection, he just nodded and uttered a series of grunts, and Gin mistook it for his full attention. '_Dirty trickster. You used to use that on Bellaniece until she figured out what it was all about. Gin'll figure it out, you know. Then you'll be sorry_.'

'_Pfft! About as sorry as she is about the whole, 'he's my teacher' spiel_.'

'_Are you still brooding over that? Hell, Cain . . . she was telling the truth_.'

'_She was telling part of the truth_,' he countered, clenching his jaws so tightly that the slow ticking commenced.

'_Part? What do you mean, 'part'? What part did she leave out?_'

'_The part about her being my---_friend.'

'_Oh, my God . . . you . . . you almost said it! You almost said she was your cake fairy!_'

'_I did not!_' he grumbled. '_That's just stupid! Ridiculous! Shut up, you!_'

'_This is bad, Cain, really bad. This is so far past bad . . . Ba-a-a-ad_.'

'_I thought I told you to shut the hell up._'

'_Bad dog, Cain! Bad! Leave Gin alone! Down, boy!_'

Cain's growling interrupted Gin's chatter. She stopped and turned to eye him suspiciously. "Cain? Are you okay?"

"Yep. Fine. Peachy. You were saying?"

Gin's frown lingered a few seconds longer before her impish little smile returned, and she clasped her hands behind her back and started strolling along the path again. "I asked if you can do it."

"Do . . . what?" he asked slowly, watching as Gin's little yellow skirt swayed around her hips.

'_Dog_.'

'_Shut u-u-up_.'

"If you can do it, will you show me? I've never seen one before . . . well, not one that big, anyway . . ."

"That . . . big . . .?" he choked.

"Yeah! I mean, I figure you'd be huge, right? If you can do it, that is . . . Uncle Sesshoumaru told me once that after you reached a certain age, you lose your ability to do it."

He wasn't sure if he was more alarmed by what Gin was saying or by the complete chagrin in her expression. Worse and worse, really, as she peeked over her shoulder, was the rapidly growing indignation that he, Cain, was too old do to . . . whatever 'it' was. "I'll have you know, baby girl, I'm not too old to do _anything_."

She giggled and spun around, leaning forward slightly as she pushed her hands up behind her back. "You were listening to my father. That's all right. I don't mind."

Cain snorted, still ruffled over the insinuation that he was too old.

"So you can still do it? Really?" She stopped as her eyes widened, sparkled, and she ran back to his side to grasp his arm. "If you do it, can I _touch_ it? I'll bet it's really soft and fluffy, and . . . Oh, Cain, I _really_ want to feel it."

"Can you . . . Gin . . . what the hell are you talking about?" Cain croaked.

"Toga showed me his once. He wasn't very big though . . . maybe because he wasn't very old . . ."

"Toga . . . showed . . . you . . .?"

"Mhmm . . . Please Cain? Please?"

'_Oh . . . my . . . God_ . . .'

'_Shut . . . the hell . . . _up . . .'

"Gin, what are you talking about?" he demanded, voice louder than he intended, but necessary to cut through her endless chatter.

She blinked but stopped talking long enough to cast him a duly befuddled look. "Your youkai form . . . the giant dog . . . you can still do that, you said . . ."

"My youkai form?" he echoed incredulously. "All that . . . was about . . . _that?_"

"Well, yeah . . . what'd you think I was talking about?"

Cain snapped his mouth closed and fought back a flush. "Not a thing," he grumbled. "Come on."

"Oh, are you going to take me somewhere to show me?"

"No!"

Gin sighed and shook her head. Cain stopped and swung around to face her. Ears drooping, rubbing the toe of one shoe in the dirt, she looked crestfallen, and Cain winced. "You're still mad at me aren't you? About earlier? About Papa?"

"No," he admitted. "Well, maybe a little . . ."

'_Shut up, Cain!_'

'_Hush, you!_'

"I didn't want Papa to cause a scene . . . err, more of a scene than he already had, and . . . Cain? You're . . . my friend . . . right?"

Something about the vulnerability in her expression was a devastating thing. "Yeah, Gin . . . you're my friend."

The smile that lit up her face started small but grew brighter and more brilliant as she perked up her ears and clapped her hands. His breath hitched in his chest, and he swallowed hard, unable to do more than blink as he stared at her. She didn't notice his pause, and she hurried to catch up with him, grabbing his hand and dragging him along the park pathway. "You're really not mad?"

"No, Gin, I'm not."

"Good, because I'd probably cry if you were."

"Don't do that," he insisted. "Just . . . I'm not mad."

They walked along in silence awhile. Cain tried to keep his eyes off her, but her silvery hair kept drawing his gaze. She was so tiny, so little . . . She looked so fragile, yet he knew better than that. Her anger had been too real, too electrifying. If he never saw that temper again, he'd remember the one time forever.

"So your uncle said that he can't change anymore?" he asked to break the silence, to shift the direction of his thoughts away from her.

Gin shrugged. "Yeah, but I was sort of a pain. Mama told me that Papa cut off Uncle Sesshoumaru's arm when they fought in my grandfather's tomb over Tetsusaiga, and all I wanted was to see him in his true youkai form. Maybe he told me that to shut me up. Then I started bugging Toga."

Cain laughed and shook his head, his amusement mingling with Gin's soft giggles. The sound was pleasant---too pleasant. It'd been a long time since he'd laughed with anyone . . .

'_You miss it, don't you, Cain? I do, too_.'

'_Yeah_,' Cain agreed with a sad little sigh. '_Yeah, I do_ . . .'

* * *

****

**_A/N_**:

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_Friends, huh _. . .

**_

* * *

_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	12. Introspection

**_Chapter 12_**

**_Introspection_**

* * *

Jamming his hands into his pockets as he scowled at the sidewalk and increased his pace, Kichiro slouched his shoulders and plodded on. He didn't really have a destination in mind. He didn't have a place to go or someone to meet. No, he'd just had to get out of the restaurant. He had to get away from _her_.

'_You were a bit of a bastard, weren't you?_'

Kichiro winced and snorted. '_Was I? Didn't notice_.'

'_Right, just like she didn't notice. Kich, you realize that what she did . . . it wasn't really that bad_.'

He didn't answer. It wasn't the severity of her manipulation. What bothered him most was the ease in which she did it. Wasn't she too young to have mastered such behavior? And he . . .

How many times had he seen women walk through the doors of his office---the same women with different faces? Women who could afford his services, and they all wanted the same thing: the perfect bodies, the perfect everything, and in the end, all that really mattered to them was that they got the perfection they wanted. They thought that he was for sale, too, and that . . .

Kichiro sighed. He wasn't for sale, damn it. He wasn't one of their toys. He wasn't someone who could be manipulated and tricked by the flash of skin, by the empty promises that didn't mean a fucking thing to any of them.

Shouldering the door open, Kichiro slipped into the bar. He recognized the scent of the place despite the years since he'd last been there. He hadn't been in here since well before Ryomaru and Nezumi had mated, right? '_Damn . . . nearly six years_ . . .' Still the bar had retained the stench of liquor, the underlying reek of sweat, of secretions that were darker, baser. Those smells couldn't be masked by the harsh cleansers that humans used to disinfect. Human senses of smell couldn't discern such things, could they? Kichiro could, and the scent both repulsed him and compelled him, drew him into the darkness that had become a way of life for far too long, and horrified him as shadows of memories assailed him.

It had been easier to bend to the sway of things that were freely offered, wasn't it? It was so simple to be drawn into the false sense that if he just searched long enough, he'd find what he had been searching for. '_That's how it was, wasn't it? Just one more girl, Kich . . . just one more woman, and eventually, you'll find her _. . .' He'd believed that, hadn't he? He'd thought he would find that elusive woman here in the squalor and the filth of a common bar.

Slipping into a quiet booth in the back of the establishment, Kichiro dug his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his brother's number.

"Izayoi."

"Ryo, what are you doing?"

Ryomaru shifted the phone and cleared his throat. "Nothing . . . quiet night at home. Why?"

"Quiet night? You?"

"Sure. There's something to be said for that, don't you think?"

Kichiro's mouth twisted into a vague half-smile. "I suppose."

"Where are you?"

Kichiro shook his head. "The bar . . ."

"You wanna come over? Nez has her nose buried in a magazine again . . ."

Wincing, Kichiro sighed. "No . . . thanks . . . Say hi for me."

"Yep."

The line went dead, and Kichiro snapped his phone closed. Pushing aside the feeling that he was the fifth wheel, he gestured for the waitress and slumped back in the booth.

"Whiskey," Kichiro ordered tersely. The waitress nodded and hurried away.

Unlike Ryomaru, he hadn't had a friend there under his nose the entire time. He hadn't had the girl that he had just overlooked over the years. No, and truthfully, he had really expected Ryomaru to screw all that up, too. Ryomaru was too reactionary, too volatile, and wasn't the joke on Kichiro, after all? Ryomaru had found his mate, and while Kichiro was happy for his sibling, he couldn't help but feel in some small part of himself, the vicious bite of complete jealousy. Shouldn't that have been him? Shouldn't he have found his match sooner than his baka brother? Not that he'd ever wanted Nezumi in that way, but the relationship between Ryomaru and Nezumi . . . it had somehow become the perfect match that Kichiro couldn't help but envy.

'_It's because they're equal. It's because they value each other, and they respect the other above anyone else. It's because they were friends before they were lovers, and you know that. Hard to watch, is it, Kich?_'

'_Maybe_,' he allowed as the waitress set the scratched glass of whiskey beside him. He stayed her with a hand on her sleeve. "Bring the bottle."

The waitress looked surprised but she nodded before hurrying away again.

'_You've got liquor at home, Kich_.'

'_I know_.'

'_Then why are we here?_'

'_Don't be stupid_.'

'_Oh? So lonely any woman will do? Is that it?_'

'_I don't want a woman_.'

'_Yeah . . . you want a 'little girl', don't you?_'

Kichiro snorted as he drained his glass and tapped his foot under the table.

'_Face it, Kich! You can't even stand to go home lately. Why is that?_'

He shook his head as the waitress wordlessly set the full bottle of imported Jack Daniels beside him. '_I go home_.'

'_Yeah, you go home . . . you just hate it_.'

True enough. The emptiness of his domain was a living, breathing thing. He'd paid someone to furnish and decorate the place shortly after it was built. Near Ryomaru and Nezumi, he had thought it was the perfect spot in the beginning. The interior designer he'd paid an exorbitant amount of money had assured him that the house was 'exactly' what Kichiro had in mind, and maybe it was. The trouble wasn't the house, itself; it was what _should_ be there, and no interior designer, no matter how good they were, could fill that space.

Maybe he should have just bought a house instead of building one. There was an intangible quality, a lived-in feel of one that had once held a family. As though their laughter had permeated the very structure of the house, it would transform the dwelling from the empty feel of his house to the warmer atmosphere that it sorely lacked.

"Hello . . . you alone?"

Kichiro glanced up from emptying his third glass of whiskey.

"I'm Aneko."

Kichiro shook his head, pasted on his most tolerant smile that he normally reserved for his patients, and tried not to let his derision show. Painted and powdered, primped and polished, he'd seen her kind way too many times before. A beautiful face with nothing underneath; a girl who thought that her value as a person rested in the eyes of a man, and he . . . he was tired of that game.

"I'm waiting for someone," he responded tightly.

Aneko's smile faltered. "I see . . . Sorry to have bothered you."

Kichiro nodded as he dismissed her completely, downing another glass of whiskey, grimacing as the harsh liquor burned his throat as he poured another one.

It used to be that he and Ryomaru---and Toga, before Sierra came along---would prowl around on nights like this one. Though most of the time Toga was there to act more as the twins' common sense than to actually look for girls, Kichiro couldn't help but remember those times as golden. It had always amused him, just how embarrassed their cousin would be when he would be the one to garner attention from the women. Toga would blush and stammer and basically retreat into the arrogance of the tai-youkai that he could don at will.

In the end, though, he'd stopped accompanying them when Sierra came around, and while Ryomaru never really commented on it, he had known that, at the time, Ryomaru had felt the same sort of emptiness that Kichiro felt now, even if Ryomaru never experienced that same thing on the same level that Kichiro did. Then came that fateful night when Ryomaru had mated Nezumi . . .

Only a fool like Ryomaru could screw things up quite so badly only to end up with the embodiment of the perfect match in the end. In those days, Kichiro had felt sorry for his baka twin. He'd really thought that Ryomaru might never see the light of day again. He'd tried to help, in his own way. Talking to Nezumi and trying to make Ryomaru see what was right in front of him all along . . .

Kichiro's frown shifted into a cynical smile. That was his job, wasn't it? That's what he did. He fixed it all for his twin. It had always been that way. Over the years he'd cleaned up more of Ryomaru's messes than he cared to think about. Always talking them both out of trouble, even when he hadn't had a thing to do with it, Kichiro was the one who thought fast, who could talk their way out of punishment, especially with their mother.

Ryomaru was older by a few minutes, and it had always seemed to Kichiro that he'd spent the better portion of his life trying to catch up to his brother. The born fighter, the undisputed hunter, Ryomaru was everything that Kichiro had never been.

Though he never said as much, Izayoi InuYasha valued physical strength. He'd spent years fighting and protecting their mother, protecting the Shikon no Tama . . . protecting his friends and those he held dear . . . Ryomaru had followed in his footsteps, becoming the youkai hunter, fighting to protect their family, being the hero . . .

Maybe Kichiro wasn't really hero material. More likely to talk his way out of a fight than to actually throw a punch, more capable of finessing and sweet-talking instead of losing his temper, Kichiro had never been like his father or his brother in that sense. Then again, he'd never had to be, either. He was more soft-hearted than his volatile brother, he supposed . . .

_Gin was crying. She'd fallen down and scraped her knee. Ryomaru was out with InuYasha, practicing tracking skills. Kagome was at the shrine helping their grandmother. Five year-old Gin had been roller-skating on the porch and had gotten a little too close to the stairs_.

"_What'd you do, baka?" nine-year old Kichiro asked as he knelt down in the grass beside his sister_.

_Gin sniffled and swatted the tears out of her eyes. "I fell_."

_Kichiro moved her hand away from her injured knee and snorted. "Feh! It isn't that bad, Gin. Stop crying, okay?_"

_Her golden eyes, still glassy with unshed tears, rose to meet his. Nostrils quivering, lip trembling, she blinked to force back her tears and nodded. "O-okay_."

"_Stay here, and don't move_."

_She nodded again as he hopped up and ran in the house for the first aid kit. When he got back, Gin hadn't moved, not an inch. Kichiro shook his head. Gin took everything way too literally. Gently dabbing away the blood with a cleansing pad, Kichiro tried not to hurt her as Gin sniffled. "This might hurt," he said with an apologetic wince as he dug out the antiseptic spray_.

G_in held her breath---she always did that when she was hurt_.

"_You're hanyou. You'll be healed by morning," he went on, wincing again when she jerked her leg. Whether it was because of the cold spray or because it stung, he didn't know. Either way, he hurriedly bandaged the scrape, and Gin finally let out the pent-up air with a whoosh. "There. All better?_"

_Gin nodded, drawing a deep, stunted breath. Kichiro made a face as he scanned the surrounding forest for any signs of his father or brother. With a sigh, he scooted over beside her and draped an arm over her shoulders. "It's okay, Gin. Everyone falls down sometime_."

"_Thanks, Kich," Gin muttered, leaning against him, trusting him because he took care of her. "It doesn't hurt so bad now_."

_They sat in silence for a few minutes before Kichiro repacked the first aid kit and helped Gin to her feet. "Come on. Let's see if Mama has ice cream in the house_."

_Gin's smile was brilliant. "Okay!" she agreed, standing up and letting Kichiro help her up the stairs onto the porch_.

_They'd eaten a half-gallon of vanilla ice cream that they'd blamed on the dog and had both gone to bed early with stomach aches, but that day_ . . .

Kichiro frowned as he swirled the contents of his glass idly. The amber liquid looked hazy in the scratched and worn glass. He smiled sadly. He was the hero for once, and he'd loved it.

His cell phone rang, and Kichiro checked the number. It was Ryomaru. He probably wanted Kichiro to come over. Kichiro stuffed the phone back into his pocket and waited for it to stop ringing. The trouble was he just didn't feel like sitting around his brother's house while Ryomaru and Nezumi laughed at things that only made sense to the two of them and whispered things that Kichiro didn't want to hear. His brother was the fortunate one, wasn't he? He'd been able to find his best friend and soul mate, all wrapped up in Nezumi.

Nezumi.

The twins had grown up with her. Kichiro couldn't remember a time when she wasn't tagging along despite knowing that she'd moved to Tokyo at the start of their third grade year. She'd become a part of their jealously guarded group---back then, just the twins---and he'd accepted her, no questions asked, because Ryomaru had befriended her. Kichiro had never felt anything but friendship toward Nezumi, and yet she was still the one that he compared other women to, wasn't she? She didn't hide behind façades; she didn't feel the need to be anyone other than who she was. Nezumi wouldn't stoop to manipulation, wouldn't bat her eyelashes or flaunt her body with anyone other than her mate. In so many ways, she reminded Kichiro of his mother---not that Izayoi Kagome had ever been a tomboy, but she didn't do those things, either. True enough, Kagome might well cajole his father into bending to her will, but then Kichiro imagined that most women could do that.

Wasn't that what bothered him most? The manipulation, itself, wasn't his complaint. What he hated more than anything was that all those women wouldn't think twice about that fine line. Whether they were manipulating a waiter to take back their food and have it cooked a little more or they were trying to manipulate him . . .

'_Ah, and we're back to Belle, are we?_'

'_Nope_.'

'_But you are. Can't quite get her out of your system, can you? Oh, well. She's not as bad as some others I could think of . . . at least she's got a mighty fine rack_.'

Kichiro shook his head again. '_Lay off her, will you? I'm not interested_.'

'_Balls, Kich. You're not as irritated at what she did as you are that she had the nerve to tweak your pride_.'

'_She did no such thing because I_ don't _care_.'

'_You do, you know. She completely irked you because she had the nerve to be nice to the waiter---nicer than she usually is to you. You're just ticked off because you were giving her a chance---which is more than you normally do lately---and she stepped on your toes_.'

Two more glasses of whiskey disappeared before Kichiro trusted himself to reply to that. '_What's that supposed to mean?_'

'_You know what it means. You've become so jaded and cynical that you_ try _to find reasons to exclude people before you give them a chance to show you that you just might be wrong_.'

'_That's bullshit. I don't do that. Belle's just a pretty girl who doesn't know what the hell she's doing; a little girl who thinks it's cute to try to get her way. Well, I'm not playing her game. I don't have time, and I don't care_.'

"Here. Compliments of the girls over there."

Kichiro glanced up as the waitress set a glass of some frothy pink drink on the table in front of him. Following the direction the waitress had indicated, he sighed inwardly as two women at the bar wiggled their fingers at him. Kichiro pushed the glass away. "No, thanks."

The waitress nodded but left the glass, turning and quietly slipping back over to the bar again.

'_What's really bugging you, Kich? I mean, she wasn't nearly as bad with the waiter as you'd like to believe. Sure, she touched his arm, and she fawned over him a little. That can't be all of it_.'

'_Too bad, because that's all there is_,' he countered.

'_You know that ain't true. What was that? You were starting to care, weren't you? Yeah, you didn't want to, and yeah, you'll deny it now, but you know . . . When she looked so sad about her father . . . you cared, didn't you? At least, for that moment, right?_'

Kichiro sighed as the unwanted memory solidified in his mind. Belle, in that pretty little mauve dress that looked like it was tailored to fit her, looking so alone as she stared at her water glass, as she ran a delicate claw around the rim of that glass . . . And that unsettling feeling that he knew how she felt because he'd felt the same way more and more often of late: completely alone, completely lost, and no one noticed, did they? Her bronze hair caught the glimmer of the ambient candle light from the centerpiece on the table, the golden sheen lending her a soft glow, an enigmatic aura, and her eyes---dark as midnight---with that haunted look that she tried to hide. In that moment, he'd thought that maybe they really weren't so different, hadn't he? He'd thought . . .

'_She really seemed so different_,' he confessed; a whisper in his mind. '_I thought maybe she _was_ different_ . . .'

'_But you don't _want_ her to be different, Kich, because then you have to admit that you were wrong, and you just fucking hate that, don't you? You know it's true. You'd rather be miserable and alone and _right_ than to admit that maybe you'd misjudged someone; that maybe---just maybe---you were wrong_.'

That wasn't true, was it? Of course not. That would make him just as stupid and shallow as the women he condemned by the dozens every day in his mind. No, the problem with Belle was that she really was just a spoiled brat who had just been handed the world and never really had to work for a damn thing, and somewhere along the line, she'd picked up the bad habit of using herself to get what she wanted. Dangerous, that combination; dangerous and stupid . . .

'_Well, if she's so unsalvageable, why are you wasting your time and efforts? Why look at her every single day in your office if you can't stand her?_'

Kichiro snorted. '_Feh. That's true. I can't save her from herself. I don't even care_.'

'_Right, you don't_.'

Kichiro opened his cell phone and hit speed dial---conveniently ignoring his youkai, who was pointing out the fact that Kichiro had cared enough to put Belle's number on his speed dial in the first place----and waited for her to answer her phone.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

The steady drum of hot water should have soothed away the lingering traces of upset that settled around Belle like a storm cloud. It had been wishful thinking, to try to escape her upset by seeking refuge in the fabricated warmth that she'd learned to rely on long ago.

At least the tears had stopped.

'_I wish it were raining_.'

'_You're too old to play in the rain, Belle, and even if you weren't, you're in the middle of Tokyo_.'

'_I know_ . . .'

With a sigh, she lifted her chin, let the water hit her full-on. '_It all used to be so much simpler, didn't it? How old was I, when I first realized that everything was . . . not that easy?_'

'_Haven't you always known somewhere in your heart that things weren't quite the way they were supposed to be?_'

She sighed. Maybe she had. Cain was a good father, a loving father; doting, kind, fair . . . Still how often had she sensed it, that there was a part of him that she couldn't reach? He gave her everything she could have ever wanted, and he didn't ask for anything in return. Those things were irrelevant as she looked back. There were too many things that had gone unsaid, too many questions that she couldn't ask him.

Belle squeezed her eyes closed, tried to ignore the bittersweet images that filled her head.

_Four year-old Belle, sitting in the studio, quiet in the corner with her dolls while Daddy worked on his latest sculpture . . . Opening her mouth to ask him in her timid little voice if he would play with her, something always seemed to stop her. Daddy wouldn't yell at her; he _never_ yelled at her. He would smile at her in that vague sort of way, and he'd wash his hands and kneel beside her, kiss her dolls, ruffle her hair, and with a sigh, he'd stand back up and return to his work_.

_Five year-old Belle, watching in silence from her little corner of the studio while her father's hands created beauty . . . He always had such a faraway look in his eyes, as if he were looking back through time or forward into a future that she couldn't comprehend. Every so often he would glance up at her, cast that sad little half-smile at her, and she would smile back; the dutiful child, even back then_ . . .

_Six year-old Belle, reading books in the studio while her father painted. Stumbling over a big word, she'd ask him to explain it to her, and he would---of course he would---but always with that sad little smile, those shadows in his gaze that she never understood_ . . .

_Seven year-old Belle, looking at old photo albums, asking questions that Cain always answered. All she knew of her mother were images caught on paper and stuck in a book . . . and Cain . . . how much had it hurt him, to hear Belle's endless questions, to answer her in the same gentle tone . . . to never, ever lose patience with the little girl who didn't understand certain things about life, about death, and about promises_?

She'd tried a few times to ask him. Careful to find just the right turn of phrase, unwilling to hurt her father even to appease her curiosity, Belle had practiced in the forest, by the ocean, strove to find the right way to ask him the questions that she had to have answered. What happened to her mother? Why did Cain always seem so sad? Would he promise to be with her forever? Standing beside the doorway of his studio---the room she'd come to realize was his private hell---she wrung her hands, bit her lip, shuffled her feet, trying to force out the words she'd so carefully practiced. The words never came. The questions couldn't be asked. The many things she wanted to know fell by the wayside as he worked the clay or stone, as he created visions of beauty even from the depths of his pain.

'_Pain? Are we sure it was pain?_'

Belle sighed and closed her eyes. It was pain. With age had come the ability to read and understand the emotions others tried to suppress, and with her father, she'd realized what he'd tried so hard to hide from her. A sorrow so complete, self-loathing and doubt . . .

He hid these things from her, but hadn't she felt them all along? It hadn't taken her long to figure out that the reason for his sadness was her mother's death, and though she wished she could understand just what he wasn't telling her, she didn't have the heart to ask. To question him would bring him pain, but there was more to it, too. If she questioned him; if she asked him for answers, then he'd realize, wouldn't he? He'd realize that she wasn't the little girl he adored. He'd discern just a little too much.

So she chose instead to repress her questions, to live in the shadows of answers she didn't want; to live in the careful pretense of the little girl whose daddy could do no wrong; who never knew anything but happiness and the safety of a father's warm embrace.

'_Daddy, can I go to the movies with some friends?_'

'_Daddy, can I go on a date?_'

'_Daddy, I'm going to the mall_.'

'_Daddy, I'll be back later_ . . .'

Belle felt the tightness of tears constricting her throat, throbbing behind her eyes, prickling her nose. She felt those things, and yet the tears wouldn't come. '_Stop that, Belle! You're the daughter of the tai-youkai, and you don't cry. You don't cry over your father, and you won't cry over anyone else! You are your father's daughter, and Cain has never, ever cried! Don't you do it; don't you dare!_'

'_Don't cry . . .? Right_ . . .'

She winced as she turned off the water---now reduced to a tepid flow---almost cold. Stepping out of the shower as she grabbed the fluffy blue towel, she drew a deep breath and dried off slowly.

Caught in the middle between childhood and being an adult, Belle had come to understand that her father would let her do just about anything, so long as she masked it in the words of the little girl. So long as she played along with his perception of his never-aging child. Clinging to the belief that Belle was still a child was something that Cain needed, and yet he hadn't seemed upset when she first started dating, either. Of course, they were boys she'd known growing up, had gone to school with, and, in the end, had outgrown long ago. She had realized that Cain didn't like the thought of her dating anyone, and yet he also never tried to stop her, either.

Kelly was the one who explained that to her. Kelly, in her brash, no-nonsense way, had told Belle a lot of things that Belle hadn't wanted to see.

"_Daddy doesn't mind if I date. It's kind of weird. I mean, he won't let me walk from home to the gas station for a soda, but he doesn't care if a boy comes and picks me up for a date?_"

_Kelly let the stack of CD cases in her hands drop onto the bed in a clatter and rolled over onto her stomach in the middle of Belle's huge pink ruffled bedspread. "Well, duh, Bellaniece. You think he'd care? He's waiting for you to get old enough to find a mate and all that. Isn't it obvious?_"

_Belle shook her head as she rifled through her closet for a dress for her date later that evening. "What do you mean, obvious? Daddy's cool, that's all_."

"_Your mother died so long ago you don't even remember her, and he's had to stay behind to raise you. Do you think that he doesn't mean to die, too? Of course he does! He needs you mated, and he needs you to have a son so he can do that. Don't you get it?_"

_Belle's shock and upset must have been apparent on her face because Kelly flinched. "Look, Bellaniece . . . I'm sorry . . . I wasn't trying to hurt you, but sometimes . . . You really do live in a dream world, don't you? Why don't you ask him? With as overprotective as he is, it's strange that he lets you date, don't you think?_"

_Yeah, she did think so. She just didn't want to face the truth of Kelly's statements. That was the last time Belle had gone on a real date, too_ . . .

That had also marked the beginning of Belle's obsession with finding a mate for Cain. Sure, she'd tried to do that before, when she was younger. She'd had a teacher who was young and single, and Belle had been secretly hopeful because at the time---she was five---she had wanted a mother. Going to school had made her realize that there was someone that should have been in her life but wasn't. She'd found out then, that the other kids all had these women they called 'Mommy', and, well . . . she didn't.

'_Telling, wasn't it? Your father never, ever mentioned your mother to you before that, did he?_'

'_No . . . no, he didn't_.'

What Belle knew of her mother was sketchy, at best. She knew her name was Isabelle; knew that Isabelle had been a budding Broadway star until she'd met and married Cain. Belle knew that she was named after Isabelle, and she knew that Isabelle was a stunning woman---all information garnered from newspaper clippings and photographs. Very little was actually learned from Cain. He didn't like to talk about Isabelle, and he didn't like to hear Bellaniece's name shortened to 'Belle', either. In fact, the one time he had heard it, he'd come uncharacteristically close to losing his temper with a young man who had come to take Cain's daughter on a date. Belle had cautioned all her friends not to do that again, at least in front of her father.

Yet her childhood had been filled with things that others probably never really thought about, either. Belle could remember wandering through her father's estate as night fell over the land, and Cain came to find her. She would give him the bouquets of wildflowers she'd picked, and he would bury his nose in them, just for her, sneeze a few times, and she'd laugh . . .

Packing picnics of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and dragging her father outside to bask in the sunshine, and if she were lucky, she could convince him to spend an hour or so playing hide and seek. Cain had always pretended that the peanut butter and jelly were better than the finest cuisine. He made her feel special; he made her feel loved, and he always---_always_---made her feel safe.

The first day of kindergarten had frightened Belle. Clinging to Cain's pants, she'd buried her face in his legs. He had smiled apologetically at her teacher, knelt before his daughter as he'd gently pried her fingers away. He'd told her that he'd be back for her when school was over, and he'd told her that he loved her. His words had bolstered her courage, and she'd taken her teacher's hand. Slowly following along behind, Bellaniece had glanced back at her father. Cain stood there, hands jammed into his pockets, a vague sadness in his gaze as he slowly lifted his hand to wave, and at noon, he was there to pick her up. Every day he was there, and every day, he carried her home, even after Belle had forgotten to be afraid.

She remembered playing in the rain until her hair was plastered to her head and her dress was ruined, her shiny white shoes scuffed and soggy, her feet squishing with every dancing step she took . . . Daddy always found her, and more often than not, he'd dance with her awhile, holding her in his arms while he twirled her around to music that only the two of them could hear.

Then he'd carry her into the house, build a fire, discard her ruined clothes, and wrap her in his Mokomoko-sama where they'd cuddle by the fire, and sometimes they'd toast marshmallows until she was nearly sick from the snack and drowsing in his arms. He'd carry her to bed, smile at the sticky baby kisses she pressed to his cheek, and tuck her in, leaving her little ballerina lamp on beside her, to keep her company through the night. Then he'd wind her little silver music box and blow her a kiss before he slipped out of the room . . .

'_Always Daddy_ . . .'

He was the only real stability she'd ever known. She didn't have brothers or sisters; no aunts or uncles. There was no one else to be her hero; no one but Daddy, and when she contemplated the idea that even he would be gone . . .

'_My happiness . . . every little girl's dream . . . Mine has a higher price, doesn't it? To be happy, I'd lose_ . . .'

Deliberately cutting off her train of thought, Belle tugged on the shirt she wore as pajamas and took her time buttoning it. Shuffling out of the bathroom with a wave of moist air, Belle shivered as the cooler air of the apartment hit her still-damp skin. She saw the light blinking on the telephone but didn't bother with it as she grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and headed back to her bedroom for the night.

A small part of her had been crestfallen, that she'd returned to an empty apartment. For the most part, though, she'd been relieved. Able to escape her father's scrutiny, able to wash off the traces of her tears, she'd feel better in the morning. She'd be able to resume her ruse of being the happy-go-lucky daughter that Cain preferred.

Curling up on the window ledge, Belle smiled sadly at the rising moon. Maybe she really was as much of an actor as her mother was, and maybe she was better at it than Isabelle had ever been.

She sighed as her eyes caught the mauve dress she had left in a careless heap on the floor. Normally she was more careful with her clothes, but she'd been in such a hurry to get into the shower before Daddy got home, before he could smell her tears and ask questions of his own . . .

Uncurling herself from her perch, Belle slowly walked over and shook out the dress before hanging it back in her closet. Wincing as the vague scent of Kichiro Izayoi wafted to her sensitive nose, she yanked the dress back down and stomped out of her room and down the hallway to the small laundry room where she proceeded to shove the dress into the washer with a good dose of detergent and pushed the 'on' button.

'_He's such a . . ._ jerk! _Arrogant, mean, cynical_ . . .'

'_If you're not careful, Belle, you're going to end up just as upset as you were, and it takes too long to recharge the water heater_.'

She turned and flopped back against the washer, arms crossed over her chest stubbornly. '_Nope, now I'm just mad, that's all_.'

'_Maybe you should ask him why he reacted like that_.'

'_Maybe I'd rather eat dirt than talk to the likes of _him _again_.'

'_You know that's not really what is bugging you_.'

Belle wrinkled her nose. '_Yes, well, it'll do_.'

'_Face it, Belle . . . what bothers you most is that you let Kichiro see a part of you that you rarely show anyone, including your father, and he . . . well, he could have slapped you across the face because it would have hurt a little less_.'

Belle blinked furiously, jamming her toes against the wooden floorboards. '_Maybe_.'

'_Maybe? Come off it, Belle . . . You hate being vulnerable. You can't stand the idea that someone is going to hurt that little girl you hide in there. You want to be a woman, but you can't let go of the past, and as long as your daddy insists on keeping his promise . . . but you know, before all that, when you were talking to Kichiro, you felt something, didn't you? He wanted you to be yourself, and then, when you were_ . . .'

Pushing herself away from the washing machine, Belle ambled back toward her bedroom once more. '_Let's not talk about him, okay? I don't even want to think about_ . . . him. _I wonder how Daddy's date is going_ . . .'

'_Yeah, about that . . . don't even try to delude yourself into thinking that your father won't kill you when he gets home. He was furious when he left, if you didn't notice_ . . .'

'_As true as that may be, we both know that Daddy's just being stubborn. I can't put my finger on it, but the thing is, I_ know _he likes her. He _really_ likes her_.'

'_It isn't as easy as him liking her . . . Belle, this is dangerous. You're not just playing with your father, you know? What about Gin? What if your father can't be convinced? What about Gin?_'

'_Oh, Gin . . . she'll adore my daddy, if she doesn't already. I mean, how could she not? He's_ daddy!'

'_Not that, Belle . . . what if Gin does fall for your father? What if her youkai blood recognizes your father as her mate . . . you're not just toying with him, Belle . . . you just might be putting Gin in very real danger, too_.'

Belle stopped abruptly and shook her head against the hint of doubt that she hadn't considered before. '_No . . . that wouldn't happen, right? I mean, they'd have to both recognize each other as their mates, if that were the case, and then there's no way Daddy would leave her_ . . .'

'_Are you sure, Belle? Are you positive?_'

'_I . . . yes, yes, I'm sure. Daddy wouldn't do that, especially to Gin_ . . .'

Her youkai sighed. '_All right, Belle, but listen: if it seems like your father isn't going to cave in . . . you have to warn Gin. You have to_.'

Belle bit her lip as she sank back down on the window seat again. '_Yeah. I . . . I will_.'

* * *

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* * *

'_You sure you want to do this?_'

'_Shut up. I'm here, right?_'

'_For the record, I think this is a mistake_.'

'_Yeah? Please note: I didn't ask_.'

Raising his fist to knock on the door, Kichiro ignored the voice of his youkai.

It took several minutes before he heard movement inside the apartment. Brushing aside the fleeting guilt that maybe she was sleeping, he snorted to himself and thumped the door once more.

Belle opened the door, dark eyes flicking coolly over him as she made no move to unchain the latch. "Isn't it rather late for a house call, Dr. Izayoi?"

"Yeah, I tried calling. Those normally work better when one answers one's damn phone."

She turned her head, probably to glance over at the telephone. When she turned back, her expression was still as impassive as it was before. "Yes, well, one of us is in the habit of showering."

Kichiro snorted at Belle's acidic answer. "Whatever . . . Look, the reason I came by . . . forget the agreement. I'll do your friend's surgery, just . . . don't bother coming in on Monday."

He'd expected her to be pleased, he guessed. He expected her to be thankful and even grateful that he'd released her from her obligation. She had a million other things---a million other men to manipulate---that she should have been grateful for his statement. What he didn't expect was for the door to close softly in his face followed moments later by the rattle of the chain coming undone before the door opened once more revealing an obviously irate hanyou, replete in her angry splendor . . . and nothing but a man's button-down shirt.

"You really are a bastard, aren't you, Dr. Izayoi? I mean, you really expect me to drop to my knees and kiss your feet because you have deemed me unworthy of working for the likes of you? Why? So you can sit back in your office and be all high and mighty because you were right? '_Belle-chan can't stand to do an honest day's work? I knew it! I just knew it! I'm so right about everything and everyone! Go, me!_' Go to hell, Dr. Izayoi. I'll be there Monday morning---probably before _you_ are."

"_What?_" he sputtered, backing up a step in the face of her ire. "What the hell are you talking about? I thought you'd be happy, damn it! I thought---"

She fluttered a hand dismissively and rolled her eyes. "You need to stop thinking once in awhile. It might save you from looking like an ass once in awhile, don't you think?"

'_She just . . . she didn't! She just called me a bastard_ and _an ass?_'

'_Well, Kich . . . if the shoe fits . . . or shoes_ . . .'

'_Shut the hell up, will you?_'

'_Then don't ask me!_'

"Listen, little girl, I was _trying_ to do you a favor."

She shook her head. "Well, don't. You already made your feelings crystal clear, and that's fine. I was stupid to think that there was more to you than just the jerk you were in the beginning, but that's okay because I learn from my mistakes, and calling you, in the first place, was the biggest mistake of them all. Now if you'll excuse me, I was just going to bed when you came knocking at my door."

Kichiro stuck his foot in the door before Belle managed to close it in his face. His temper was strained well beyond its normal limits, and with a resounding thud, he smashed the door open with the palm of his hand. Belle squeaked and retreated as Kichiro stomped into the apartment. "I don't understand you at all, do you know? You're absolutely unnatural, damn it, and---"

"I'm completely natural, I'll have you know," Belle pointed out reasonably, her tone leaving little room for misinterpretation in Kichiro's mind as to just what she was referring to.

"That's not what I mean, wench, and I think you know that."

"Wench?" she echoed, arching one of her delicate light brown eyebrows. "Now, that's interesting . . ."

"Do you always answer the door in next to nothing?"

"Do you always go around knocking on people's doors at nearly midnight?"

"Answer my question first."

Belle forced a tight little smile. "Don't be absurd. I knew it was you. Since I just got done washing your stink out of my dress, then I'd know, right?"

He could feel indignant color explode in his face, and struggling for every last bit of restraint he could muster, Kichiro uttered a fierce growl as he stalked toward Belle, who apparently didn't have the common sense to run. No, she stood her ground, glaring right back at him, eyes snapping with anger as he closed in on her. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips dusted with deep, flushed color, and for some stupid reason, the idea of kissing her was suddenly much, much more appealing than the prior inclination to yell at her . . .

His hands shot out, wrapped around her upper arms, dragging her roughly against his chest, he heard her gasp. "You're going to learn someday that you really shouldn't provoke me . . ."

"Let go," she murmured as her cheeks pinked a little more. Staring into her eyes was a dangerous thing. The anger that had served to thwart her better judgment seemed to fade in an instant, and she blinked slowly as something else stole into her gaze; something warm and inviting . . . something dangerous and maybe even lethal . . .

"Belle . . ."

She swallowed hard. He could see her inner turmoil, and for a moment, she looked like she just might give in. Then she shook her head, closed her eyes, turned her face away. "I think you should leave, Dr. Izayoi. We've said quite enough to each other, don't you agree?"

It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, letting go of her then. He did it, stepping back as he jammed his hands into his pockets. "You still don't want out of the job?"

Belle's hand rose to adjust the collar of the shirt. Her hand was shaking. "Of course not," she assured him with far more bravado than he could have managed.

"Feh. Fine. I won't offer again."

Belle sighed. "No, I didn't think you would."

He reached for the door and jerked it open. "See you Monday, then."

Belle didn't answer as Kichiro pulled the door closed in his wake. Storming toward the stairs, he tried not to think about what had happened in that apartment. The shift in his emotions was understandable, right? Anger was just another form of passion, wasn't it? It wasn't that he had wanted her, at all . . . Of course not . . .

'_Balls, Kich, you really _are_ dense, aren't you?_'

'_Oh, you again? Go away, will you?_'

'_Hate to tell you, but it don't matter what you try to tell yourself. The truth's there. In case you didn't notice, she wanted you. You just had to be an ass, as usual_.'

Sprinting down the steps in the stairwell in record time, Kichiro darted for the exit. '_She's just a little girl . . . She doesn't have any idea what she wants . . . and _I _don't want_ her.'

'_Yeah, yeah . . . I hear you. You can say that all you want, but you know . . . for not wanting her, you certainly responded to her, didn't you?_'

Kichiro groaned as he vaulted to the top of the nearest building and ran through the night toward InuYasha's Forest. True enough, as much as he wanted to think otherwise, his body _had_ responded to her . . .

'_It's going to be a long night, Kich_,' his youkai voice complained.

Kichiro flattened his ears as he leapt onto the next building. Unfortunately he had a feeling that the voice was right.

* * *

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**_A/N_**:

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_He wanted to … kiss me _… ?

**_

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_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	13. The Not A Date

**_Chapter 13_**

**_The Not-A-Date_**

* * *

"Aren't they pretty?"

Cain stifled a sigh as he pushed Gin again and stepped back. "What are?"

She laughed softly, her face turned toward the sky as she leaned back in the swing, her legs stretched out in front of her, hair streaming out behind her. Etched against the background of forest trees and silhouetted by moonlight, her eyes glowed with a happy glimmer as her skirt fluttered like a butterfly beneath her legs.

"The stars," Gin supplied as Cain sat in the swing next to hers. "It's just . . . It's so large, and open . . . free . . . Mama used to tell me this story that Great-Grandpa used to tell her about a mighty prince that set out to find his princess but didn't know where to look . . ."

Cain smiled. "Really."

Gin nodded. "Uh huh . . . The prince believed he would know her because she would remind him of the comfort of his youth and a girl he used to know. He searched everywhere but never found her until one night, as he lay awake, he promised the moon that he would give anything, if he could only find his true love; his princess . . . . The moon watched over him, night after night he dreamed of this girl he used to know, his best childhood friend. When he came to this village, he saw a girl who looked like the one from his dreams, and he asked her to marry him. She said yes. He should have been happy but he wasn't. That night, the young prince couldn't sleep, so he wandered outside to stare at the moon. It was then that he realized that he'd not been searching for the girl he'd asked to marry him. He'd been searching for the woman in the moon, the quiet voice that whispered to him every night. He wanted to touch the moon."

"Interesting story," he allowed, pushing himself idly as he stared at her profile. Young, maybe, but there was a light in her gaze that seemed so much older. Gin was a mystery to him. She was a complete paradox, an irrational being that made neither rhyme nor reason. Still young enough to believe in happy endings but old enough . . . Did she realize that the world wasn't always a nice place to be?

Gin laughed. "I know; I know . . . I'm too old to believe in fairy tales, right?"

"I don't know . . . Bellaniece used to love them. She used to say I was her Prince Charming." He laughed at the memory of Bellaniece in her frilly little dresses, her cherubic face full of innocent wonder as she pronounced herself the princess and demanded that he come rescue her. Standing on one of his worktables in his studio, she would stomp her little foot and call out for help.

Her tone was as muted as the wan moonlight; silvery, beautiful. "You were her hero . . . she said so."

Cain shrugged. "Yeah . . . I guess I was."

"You aren't still?"

"Oh, probably not. I mean, she's not really a little girl anymore . . .'

Gin giggled softly. "Girls never stop thinking their fathers are perfect, Cain."

"Do you think yours is perfect?"

"Well, maybe not perfect . . . but he _is_ still my hero."

Cain nodded. "All right, I can understand that."

"I used to believe that Papa could fix anything," Gin went on quietly.

"And now?"

Her smile returned but it was a wistful little thing. "Now I believe that Papa can make me feel better when he can't fix things for me."

"Isn't that what a father's supposed to do?"

Gin shrugged. "Sure, maybe . . . I had a friend in school whose father was a drunk, and he hit her a few times. Papa found out, and he went over there to talk to her father. I don't think that he ever struck my friend again. It might not have been the best solution, but at least she didn't have to hurt anymore."

Cain followed Gin's gaze skyward. The twinkling stars seemed so far away. When was the last time he'd looked at them? He couldn't really remember. "Do you ever stop dreaming, Gin?"

"I guess not."

He shook his head. '_What is it about her?_' he asked himself as he turned his head slightly, breathed in the scent of her. '_She . . . comforts me_ . . .'

'_Be careful, Cain . . . Gin is . . . Gin's special_.'

He grimaced inwardly as the breeze brought the scent of her to his nostrils. Fresh, clean, earthy, and somehow just beyond his grasp . . . He was compelled to be near her, wanted to be beside her. '_She makes me laugh_.'

'_She makes you want to think of things you'd given up, Cain. She makes you want to believe in beautiful things again_.'

Cain sighed. '_Maybe . . . Or maybe she's just a reminder that those beautiful things still exist . . . at least they do to a young woman whose father can still fix everything for her_.'

A hint of a shadow passed over Gin's features, and he could feel her gaze on him. "Cain, can I ask you something?"

Despite the feeling that he didn't want to hear her question, Cain shrugged and nodded. "All right."

"How long ago did she die? Your mate?"

A surge of outrage rifled through him. Cain shot to his feet, sending the swing flying back as he stalked away from the playground equipment. The soft clank of chains made him grit his teeth. Moments later a tiny hand touched his arm. "You don't have to answer," Gin said quietly, her ears flattening against her skull as she slowly shook her head. "It's none of my business."

Cain sighed, feeling like a complete ogre for losing his temper with her. She wasn't trying to hurt him, and he knew it. Some things, though, were just too hard to say . . . "Isabelle died . . . when Bellaniece was an infant."

"Must have been tough on you. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," he lied, needing to reassure her and irritated that he would feel that way. "You, uh, play long enough?"

Gin blushed, biting her lower lip as she scrunched up her shoulders. "You wanted to get home and check on Bellaniece, didn't you? I forgot . . . oh . . . you know, I've heard that warm compresses are good for cramps . . . We could stop and pick up a heating pad, if you don't have one. I might have one, but then, I might have left it at home, and I can't really go there! Papa would---"

Cain shook his head, pressing his index finger to Gin's lips to silence her. She blinked quickly, gaze lifting to meet his, cheeks pinking in the soft moonlight. "It's all right, Gin. I'm sure she's just fine."

Gin nodded in silence, blinking in the darkness, his finger still resting on her lips. A distinct shiver ran up her spine and into him from the connection.

'_Earth to Cain . . . Earth to Cain . . . Come on, big guy, you're listening, right?_'

Gin's lips were as deep red as wine in the dimness. Staring at him with those bright golden eyes, she seemed to see into his brain, like she understood what he desperately wanted . . . like she wanted the same thing . . .

'_Damn, Cain, no! Well . . . maybe_ . . .'

Her lips parted under his fingertip, her breath misting his skin as a savage jolt thundered through him; dizzying, electrifying . . . and scary as hell . . .

'_Isabelle, Cain! Isabelle!_'

That reminder was like a dousing of cold water, and Cain winced as he jerked out of his Gin-induced stupor. He felt his face warm as he let his hand drop away. "You babble a lot," he muttered.

Gin sighed. "That bad, huh?"

He chuckled. "Not bad, just . . . different."

"Do you want to go home? Or we could walk around a little more . . . or . . ." she trailed off with a shrug, sighing softly as she shuffled her feet in the wood chips that covered the playground. "Or you could talk. I'll listen." She giggled suddenly as she grabbed Cain's hand and pulled him toward the path again. "I promise I won't babble any more tonight."

"You sure you want to make a promise you can't keep?" he countered with a little grin as he stared at the stark contrast of her little hand in his. Her skin was soft---baby soft. She was so tiny, so delicate . . . '_She's my cake fairy_.'

* * *

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* * *

Gin checked her watch as she leaned against the railing and waited for Cain to come back. It was nearly midnight, and she had to smile. '_Ice cream at _ _midnight__ . . . this is really fun!_'

'_Gin . . . you're having a good time, aren't you?_'

'_Hmm, yeah_ . . .'

'_Be careful, okay? Promise_ . . .'

'_Careful? Of what? Cain's here . . . he won't let anything happen_ . . .'

'_That's not what I mean, Gin . . . You've got to be careful_.'

'_Okay_,' she agreed, more to silence the voice of her youkai than because she was heeding the warning the voice was trying to impart. '_I got it, I know . . . It's night, and there're dangers at night_ . . .'

Wandering around Tokyo at night was something she'd never really done before. She'd never been allowed to when she lived at home, and she'd never really wanted to after she'd moved out. With Cain, though, she felt safe, and even though she knew how to defend herself, being with him . . . well, it was nice.

"Here," Cain said as he re-emerged from the small shop. She took the vanilla ice cream cone and hurriedly darted out her tongue to catch a dribble that had started to fall. A strange look passed over Cain's features but was gone before Gin could try to discern it: a fleeting glimpse of a deeper emotion, something frightening yet exciting, heady and primitive and . . . and stunning. He started walking, and Gin fell in step beside him, trying to make sense of things that she didn't understand but wanted to.

Ambling along the sidewalk as they ate the ice cream, Gin couldn't help but laugh as the beauty of the night enthralled her. "You know, this is the first time I've wandered around this late at night?" she ventured, peeking up at him as she licked her ice cream.

"Really? You don't get out much, do you?" he joked.

Gin smiled. "I guess not."

"You know, it's been awhile since I did, too."

"Now you're just humoring me."

"Absolutely not."

"Do you want to call and check on Belle?"

Cain stopped momentarily, back stiffening as his youki flared, laced with hostility. "Bellaniece," he corrected.

Gin frowned, shaking her head as she stared up at him. The streetlamp cast him in shades of yellow, and his eyes were lost in shadows. "Sorry," she apologized. "Do you want to call and check on Bellaniece?"

Cain sighed and shrugged, forcing a tight smile as he started walking again. "She's probably in bed," he allowed. "Anyway, it's probably about time to head back, don't you think?"

Confused by the strange undercurrent in his words, Gin nodded in reply but didn't speak.

'_He . . . he really got angry when I called her 'Belle'_ . . .'

'_You're right . . . that _was_ strange_ . . .'

'_I mean, you'd think that Belle would be an easy way to shorten her name. It's almost as though_ . . .' Gin's thought trailed off as she realized something else. "Cain? Was that her name? Belle?"

She felt him hesitate beside her but she kept her gaze on the sidewalk. '_I shouldn't have asked that . . . What was I thinking? That was really, really dumb . . . Oh, dear _. . .'

"Yeah . . . Isabelle . . . I called her 'Belle'."

"And that's why you call your daughter by her full name. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay, Gin. You didn't know, and I shouldn't have snapped at you." He smiled suddenly, inclining his head toward her hand. "You're dripping."

"Oh!" Gin squeaked as she hurried to eat her ice cream before it made an even bigger mess. The top was sliding off, and when she tried to push it back with her tongue, the top touched her nose. Cain laughed. Gin made a face and gave up, sighing as she dropped the leaky cone in a nearby trash can. "Ew, I'm a mess," she lamented, holding up her now-empty hand as she rummaged around in her purse for a napkin or tissue.

She didn't see Cain toss away the rest of his cone, too, but the warmth of his fingers under her chin as he lifted her face to dab at the ice cream with a handkerchief. "You remind me of Bellaniece. She used to make a mess of herself when I'd buy her ice cream, too."

Gin blushed, embarrassed at the reference to his daughter and unsure about the strange feeling in her stomach. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was unsettling. "C-Cain?"

"Hmm?" he intoned as he took her hand and started wiping it off, too.

"I . . . I feel . . . strange."

"Strange?" he echoed absently. "How so?"

She swallowed hard as the fluttering in her stomach increased. Pressing her free hand against her belly alleviated some of the sensation. She shook her head. "I'm not . . . sure . . ."

Cain stopped, glancing up at her without letting go of her hand. A foreign brightness sparked behind his gaze, and he blinked suddenly, dropping her hand as he stood up straight and stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket. "That'll do," he mumbled.

The unsettling feeling slowly subsided, and Gin tried to forget about it as they started walking again. "My fingers are still all sticky," she commented in the stilted silence.

Cain shrugged. "Well, I used to lick the handkerchief first, before I tried to wipe Bellaniece off. I didn't suppose you'd like that at all."

She stole a glance at him. Tall, proud, staring off into the distance with a discernible frown, his ponytail lay over his shoulder. There was something completely mysterious about him, and yet she felt like she knew a part of his soul.

Gin grimaced and shook her head to dispel that bit of nonsense. '_That's crazy . . . I don't know him that well_ . . .'

'_Maybe not, but outside your family and the girls you grew up with, you probably do know him better than you know anyone else_.'

'_He's lonely_.'

'_Gin . . . remember when I told you before to be careful? I meant it. Cain isn't a stray puppy you can bring home. You know that, right?_'

'_Of course I do! He's just my friend; that's all_.'

'_Just your friend, huh? Keep that in mind, won't you? Cain is a great person but he's got a lot of baggage---a lot of stuff that you don't know about_.'

'_Maybe he just needs a friend_.'

'_Gin . . . you're not listening. You can't save Cain . . . You can't find what's broken inside him and make it all better_.'

Gin brushed that thought aside with a shake of her head. '_That's silly! I don't want to save him! I want to_---"

'_You want to do for him what your mother did for your father, right?_'

'_Is that wrong?_'

Her youkai sighed. '_Not wrong, Gin . . . but you're missing one crucial difference between your father and Cain: your father _wanted_ to be saved_.'

Gin frowned as she scuffed her feel along the sidewalk, as their feet fell in a steady cadence in the night. '_But__maybe Cain really does want to be saved, too _. . .'

* * *

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* * *

'_That girl is nothing but trouble, Cain_.'

Cain hitched his shoulders as he pushed away from the short wall and watched as Gin swished her hands in the lit fountain in the center of the plaza in front of the Inutaisho Industries building. Smiling idly as she shook the water off her hands, he ignored the warnings his youkai was spouting.

Hopping over the short stone step, she caught his gaze and grinned.

"Excuse me . . ."

Cain had noticed the woman but hadn't paid much attention to her. So caught up in watching Gin, it hadn't occurred to him that he was being approached she was standing before him. "Can I help you?" he asked automatically, peeking over the woman's shoulder as Gin picked her way through the flower garden that surrounded the fountain.

The woman smiled, casually flipping a long strand of brown hair over her shoulder, and touched Cain's arm. "I certainly hope so . . . My name's Eliza. You wouldn't happen to know where I can find the Tokyo Grande Hotel, would you?"

Cain's eyes dropped to the woman's hand on his arm and lingered. "Sorry. I'm new to the city, myself. I haven't heard of it."

Something about Eliza reminded Cain of a cat. Her stance, her movements, everything about her bespoke a feline grace, a predatory air. She was only a human. He could tell that from her scent. What he didn't like was the possessiveness of her hand on him, the arrogance with which she used her not-so-subtle ruse to try to win him over. Wealthy surely, used to getting her way, or so it would seem, she didn't give the impression of the kind of woman who liked to hear the word 'no'. Too bad Cain wasn't interested. He'd never been drawn to women like that. Eliza didn't seem to notice Cain's assessment. She smiled, tilting her head to the side as she flicked the top of her tongue out, touched her upper lip. "Oh, that's a shame . . . maybe you wouldn't mind giving a lady some company while I'm looking for it?"

Stifling the desire to shove her hand away, Cain slowly lifted his bored gaze as Gin stopped short behind the woman. "I can't," he replied. "Gin's from Tokyo. Maybe she knows where the Tokyo Grand Hotel is."

He could sense the woman's stance change, could feel the swell of irritation at the mention of Gin's name. She turned slowly, her condescending gaze traveling up and down Gin's diminutive frame. From where Cain stood, he didn't miss the slight narrowing of Eliza's eyes, the curl of her ruby red lips.

Cain shook her hand off and glanced at Gin. If Gin sensed Eliza's hostility, she didn't show it. Offering the woman a friendly smile, Gin bowed and greeted her. "I'm Izayoi Gin. Cain said you need help finding your hotel?"

Eliza smiled insincerely at Gin and uttered a terse little laugh. "How sweet! Your sister?" she asked, turning back to Cain.

Gin shook her head as a little frown pulled her eyebrows together. "Sister? No . . . Cain's my teacher."

"Oh, your _teacher!_ Now, that makes sense!" She laughed, and the sound of it made Cain cinch his jaw tight. Gin just looked confused. "I almost thought you were together! Silly, silly me!" Turning back to Cain as she deliberately turned her back on Gin, Eliza touched his arm again, leaned in close---_too_ close. "I could pay for your _student_ to take a cab home, if you'd be willing to help me, Cain?"

Before Cain could push the audacious woman away again, Gin stepped back, a smile on her lips despite the hurt in her eyes. "That's okay . . . I have money," she assured them. "The Tokyo Grand is just around this corner and down about four blocks south."

She turned on her heel and walked away before Cain could stop her.

"What a sweet little girl," Eliza crooned, watching Gin hurry away.

"Gin!" Cain hollered, starting after her. Eliza caught his hand to stop him as Gin broke into a run and disappeared around the corner.

"How quaint! Now that you're done babysitting, how about you buy me a drink?" Eliza pressed as she linked her arm through Cain's and tugged him forward.

'_What are you thinking? You need to catch Gin! It's late, she's alone . . . Cain!_'

'_Damn it! I can't just . . . Hell, why did she take off?_'

Cain gritted his teeth and led the woman toward the street as he stuck his hand out to hail a cab. "Look, Miss, I don't know who you are, but I'm responsible for that girl," he growled as he jerked open the cab door. "The Tokyo Grande Hotel," he told the driver.

Eliza's expression took on a pinched, angry look, which only added to the cat-like appearance of her face. "Sorry to trouble you," Eliza remarked tightly. "Good night."

Cain didn't trust himself to answer her. Tossing a wad of bills through the cab driver's window, he stepped away from the curb and strode away in the direction Gin had disappeared.

* * *

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* * *

"Cain's my teacher," Gin muttered as she pulled the cake pan and her mixing bowl from the cupboard. "I mean, he _is_, right? Just my teacher, remember? It wasn't like we were on a date or anything . . . It was just dinner, and . . . stuff . . ."

She ran all the way home. Barely able to restrain herself as she walked away from Cain and that woman, Gin hadn't been able to brush off the animosity she'd felt, either. As if the woman hated her for reasons Gin didn't understand---how could she? She'd just met her---the woman had looked at Gin like there was something wrong with her.

'_How could she hate me? I didn't do anything_ . . .'

'_Oh, Gin . . . She was rude, wasn't she?_'

Gin took her time measuring out the ingredients for her nightly cake. '_Maybe she was having a bad day or something . . . Maybe she wasn't really trying to be rude_ . . .'

'_Doll, she jerked Cain right out from under your nose! That had nothing to do with having a bad day and everything to do with being a catty bi_---"

'_No . . . I mean, I'd never met her. She can't have had something against me if I'd never met her before_.'

Her youkai sighed.

Gin finished mixing up the cake batter and greasing the pan when the soft knock sounded on her door. Pausing a moment to dump flour into the pan, she tapped it around as she strode over to answer. "Cain . . ."

Cain stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, staring at her with an inscrutable look on his face. Gin stepped back, and Cain brushed past her. She winced as she pushed the door closed. He was furious, and she had no idea why.

"What the hell was that, Gin?"

Gin frowned in confusion and hurried back to the counter, careful to give Cain a wide berth since he looked like he was going to commit some mayhem. "What was what?"

"Don't play innocent: your disappearing act, that's what."

Her hands were shaking as she scraped the batter into the pan. She drew a deep breath to steady her voice before she dared answer. "I didn't disappear. I came home."

"Oh, for the love of---Gin, Tokyo is huge! There's a reason your father never let you run around the city at night, or didn't you think of that?"

"But I---"

"Damn, Gin, don't you get it? The world isn't as beautiful and perfect and innocent as you want to believe! There are those out there who would hurt you---_especially_ you---and you _can't_ take stupid chances like that!"

"I know," she replied, staring at her hands, clasped together on the counter.

"I don't think you do. I don't think you get it at all." He sighed, cracking his knuckles before clenching his fists. He looked like he wanted to hit something. "Not everyone is like you. Not everyone looks at things and sees what you see."

"What do you see?"

Her soft question seemed to catch him off-guard. Shaking his head slowly, he glared at her. "What do I see?"

She shrugged and slipped the cake into the oven. Setting the timer, she turned around to face him again, but she couldn't meet his gaze. "When you . . . when you look at me, what do you see?"

Cain sighed. "This is about that woman, isn't it?"

Gin shifted her gaze to stare at the wall clock. Nearly one in the morning . . . "I don't understand why she hated me."

Cain's anger diminished, and he crossed the room to clumsily, hesitantly draw her into a hug. Gin stared at her hand, balled into a fist against his chest, and she closed her eyes against the memory of the sting of the woman's words and actions. "She didn't hate you," he said softly. "She just . . . I don't think anyone could ever really hate you."

Gin laughed weakly. "You're just saying that to make me feel better, but thanks anyway."

He wrinkled his nose. "I said it because it was the truth. I almost wish it weren't."

"Why?"

He smiled sadly and let go of her to drag a tired hand over his face. "No reason."

She knew there was more to Cain's answer than he gave her but also understood that he wasn't going to tell her anything more. Stepping around him to gather the dirty dishes, she turned back to the sink and shrugged. "You know, for the record: if someone had tried to mug me or something, I could have taken 'em."

"Come again?"

Gin turned on the water to wash the mixing bowl and utensils. "You think my papa didn't teach me a few tricks? I can hold my own; thanks . . . bet I could kick your rear, too."

"I beg to differ, baby girl," he argued. "Not that I would fight a woman, but . . . you wouldn't be able to do that."

Gin snorted. "I've beaten my brothers. I've beaten Toga . . . You don't look so tough. I could definitely take you."

Cain laughed incredulously. "You could not!"

"I could, too!"

"No 'baby girl' can possibly fight a tai-youkai."

"So you think you're tough? I'd like to see that."

"Pity there's no worthy adversaries around here."

Gin glanced over her shoulder at him. "I bet my papa could take you."

Cain snorted indelicately. "You tell your papa I'd be more than happy to wipe the floor with him."

Gin grinned. "Be careful what you ask for, Cain."

Cain chuckled. "I suppose you're right, Gin."

* * *

****

**_A/N_**:

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_He makes me feel … strange_?

**_

* * *

_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	14. A Woman Scorned

**_Chapter 14_**

**_A Woman Scorned_**

* * *

Cain rubbed the shallow vale in the center of his chest with his knuckles as he shuffled toward the kitchen. Stifling a wide yawn, he shook his head then blinked a few times to clear his vision, heading straight for the coffee pot and Gin's latest cake confection.

'_I think she laces those cakes_,' his youkai grumbled.

Cain dumped a few tablespoons of coffee into the filter and closed the contraption. '_Oh, you again? What do you want?_'

'_Nothing . . . just wondered if you really were going to do it_.'

Dumping in a carafe of water, he snapped the lid closed and flipped the 'on' button. '_Going to do what? You could try being a little more concise, you know_.'

'_How many cakes has she made you, Cain? Are you really going to give her wings?_'

'_Wings_ . . .'

"Morning, Daddy," Bellaniece greeted as she stumbled out of her bedroom. "Did you have a good time last night?"

Cain cut off a huge hunk of cake and leaned against the counter as Bellaniece stopped long enough to kiss his cheek before rummaging around in the refrigerator. "You were in bed when I got home," he commented evenly. "Anything wrong?"

Bellaniece emerged with a bottle of apple juice and shot her father an impish smile. "Nope, not a thing. I was tired, so I went to bed early."

She stared directly into his eyes. He knew the trick well. Whenever Bellaniece wanted him to believe her, whenever she wanted to avoid questions, she always reverted to this trick: lowering her chin, gazing at him in that slow, direct way . . . Maybe it was simple instinct. Cain didn't want to question it. Isabelle had used that same ploy, hadn't she? For just a moment, the fleeting pulse of a fluttering heartbeat, Bellaniece _was_ Isabelle. Cain blinked, shook his head as he shook his head to dispel the imagery. Bellaniece smiled sweetly as she popped open the juice and took a long swallow. "Something wrong, Daddy?"

"What? Uh, no . . ."

He could tell from the look on her face that she didn't buy his miserable excuse for an answer. She chose to ignore it as she stood up and ambled over to cut herself a slice of cake, too. "How was dinner, by the way? Did you have a good time with your cake fairy?"

Cain wrinkled his nose as he swallowed a bite of cake. "It was fine," he hedged.

"Just 'fine'?"

"Yep, fine," he insisted. "So what are you doing today?"

Bellaniece laughed. "That was smooth, Daddy. You think I didn't know you were changing the topic?"

Cain shrugged as he polished off his cake and rinsed his hands before pulling a mug out of the cupboard for coffee.

"I figured I'd go shopping today," she relented.

"Didn't you just go shopping recently?"

"For you, of course! My closet is very happy. Yours is sadly lacking."

"There's nothing wrong with my clothes," Cain argued as he rinsed off the empty cake plate. "Anyway, you spend more than enough money for the both of us. I don't need more clothes."

"That's funny, Daddy; very, very funny! If you're going to be dating---"

"I'm not dating."

"---Then you need to dress to impress---"

"But I'm not dating."

"---Because if you don't---"

"Bellaniece, I'm not dating."

"---You'll never get past first base with Gin."

Cain slapped his hand over his eyes and shook his head. "You're grounded," he grumbled. "No more talk shows for you."

Belle laughed. "You know I never watch talk shows. Not a big deal! _So-o-o_ . . ." she continued, dragging her claws along the counter as she strolled to the other side and leaned on her elbows. "You were out really late last night, weren't you? I was up till a little after midnight, and you still weren't back. Don't tell me you and Gin got . . . lost . . .?"

"Not hardly. Anyway, I thought you said you were going shopping?" Cain prodded as he lifted the coffee to his lips.

Belle shrugged innocently and winked at her father. "The master of evasion . . . Ah-ah, Daddy . . . hiding from the truth will only prolong your agony."

"And teasing your father will do the same thing for you."

Belle relented with a soft giggle as she pushed away from the counter and shuffled off toward the bathroom. "I'm thinking color, Daddy . . . lots of color. Be gone, drab shades of gray and brown! Be gone, boring whites and basic blacks! Color, Daddy! Think _young!_ Think _vibrant!_ Think---"

"Don't finish that," Cain warned, feeling heat stealing into his cheeks despite his efforts to contain it.

"---Cake fairies!"

Cain whipped the towel off the counter and threw it at his daughter. Belle ducked into the bathroom in time to avoid the flying cloth but stuck her head back into the hallway a moment later to grin at her father and blow him a kiss.

Rolling his eyes, Cain finished his coffee and refilled the cup. Rolling his head from side to side to stretch out his muscles, he headed back toward the third bedroom; the one he used as a studio.

The small worktable and a desktop easel were the only things in the room. All his supplies were stashed in the closet, and while the room was much tinier than his studio back home, he figured it would do. Western wall was a series of windows. Since Cain did most of his work in the afternoons or early evenings, it suited purposes much better.

Wandering over to the windows with his mug of steaming coffee, he stared out over the city, remembering a time when the city was young; remembering a time when he had been idealistic, too, and he had thought that the world was a beautiful place. It was a lifetime ago, wasn't it?

With a sigh, he lifted his coffee to his lips.

'_Let's go back to bed, Cain. I'm still tired, and so are you_.'

Cain made a face and swallowed the rest of his coffee.

'_Oh, come on! It was after three when we finally went to bed . . . see what you get for visiting with Gin? My ass is dragging, and I don't even_ have _an ass_ . . .'

'_I wouldn't have cared if you'd have shut up last night when I told you to . . . numerous times_.'

'_Right, Cain . . . If I left you to your own devices, you'd have been all over that poor girl, and then where would we be?_'

Cain wrinkled his nose. '_I'll pretend I didn't hear you say that_.'

'_Yep, and while you're at it, pretend you aren't thinking about the fact that you really had a good time, despite yourself_.'

'. . . _I never said I didn't_.'

'_Ri-i-i-i-i-ight_.'

* * *

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* * *

Belle stepped out of the apartment, adjusting her purse strap over her shoulder and balancing the empty cake plate in her other hand. She had a plan, and if it worked . . .

'_Belle, we've been through this, right? You agreed to let them alone_.'

'_I never agreed to that . . . I agreed to warn Gin should Daddy pull that stubborn act of his_ . . .'

'_And the chances of that happening are pretty high_.'

Belle made a face as she tapped on Gin's door. '_Maybe. I've still got to try, don't I?_'

'_No, you don't. If they're meant to be, they'll figure that out without your interference, don't you think?_'

Belle was saved from answering when Gin opened the door and smiled. "Bellaniece! Do you feel better? I hope your cramps weren't too severe . . ."

Belle waved a hand dismissively and stepped into Gin's apartment. "Oh, I was fine . . . they didn't last long---never do. Did you have a good time with my father?"

Gin rubbed her eye and closed the door. Taking the plate from Belle, she shuffled over to the counter to set it down. "Yeah . . . we goofed around on the playground, and he bought me ice cream."

"Really? Nice . . . Huh."

Gin shook her head, a slight frown surfacing on her face as she twitched her ears and shrugged. "Is that strange?"

"Not strange," Belle said slowly, running a claw lightly along the countertop. "No, not strange, just . . ." Trailing off with a dreamy sigh, she giggled and ducked her head. "It's nice, you know? I mean, it's been a long time since . . . Well, Daddy's been different lately, and I'm glad."

"He's lonely, isn't he? I know he has you, but sometimes it seems like he's . . . I don't know . . . looking for something, maybe?"

"I want Daddy to be happy. I'd love to hear him laugh. He doesn't laugh very often."

"Yeah . . . laughing is good . . ." Gin tried to smile. Strained and sad, she looked like she was confused.

Belle frowned. "Gin? Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine . . ."

Belle wasn't buying. Gin was too open, too friendly, too easy to read. "Did something happen last night?" she asked, careful to keep her tone casual.

Gin wrapped a strand of hair around her finger, idly twisting the silvery lock into a tight ringlet. "I don't know," she admitted softly, staring at the hair wrapped around her finger. "Has anyone ever hated you just because? I mean, without any real reason, and without justification?"

Belle snorted, gritting her teeth as she remembered Kichiro's derisive tone, his condescending demeanor . . . and the confusion of her own emotions that had kept her awake long into the night. "Some people think it's easier to dislike others than to try to find the good in them . . . that's what I think."

Gin grimaced. "Maybe. Thanks for returning my plate."

"It's not a problem. Daddy was cloistered in his makeshift studio . . ." Regarding Gin for a moment, Belle smiled as she watched Gin put away the plate. "Say, Gin . . . I was going to go shopping for Daddy. He needs some new clothes, and I wondered . . . Do you know of any tall men's shops around here? I might have trouble finding clothes to fit him otherwise."

Considering the question as she tapped her index finger against her cheek, Gin nodded. "Yeah, I know of a few. I have a hard enough time finding clothes when I look for presents for my family. It seems like they're all taller or broader than most of the guys around here, on average . . ."

Belle squinted apologetically. "Do you think you could come with me? I'd probably get lost trying to find my way around Tokyo alone, if it's not a problem . . ."

Gin brightened right away, a happy smile adding a sparkle to her eyes. "All right," she agreed. "I'm free today. Oh, I should pick up a shirt for Cain since I ruined two of his the other day. Let me brush my hair and grab my shoes."

Belle grinned as Gin scurried away. '_Well, that was easy, wasn't it?_'

'_Of course it was, Belle. Gin's a nice girl, and you were counting on that, weren't you?_'

'_You make it sound so clandestine_.'

'_Everything is clandestine with you_.'

'_That's not true! I just think that if Gin is going to be spending time with Daddy that she ought to have a say in what he is wearing. It's only fair_.'

'_Speaking of fair_ . . .'

Stifling a groan since Belle had a fair guess as to what was coming, she shook her head. '_I don't want to talk about that._'

'_Fine, you don't have to; just listen_.'

'_I don't want to do that, either_.'

'_You were pretty rude to Kichiro last night_.'

'_I thought I said I didn't want to talk about that---or hear about it, either_.'

'_Be that as it may, you need to hear this. You shouldn't have been so mean to him_.'

'_Mean? You want to discuss 'mean'? What do you call his behavior if I was mean?_'

'_This isn't about him, Belle, it's about you. It doesn't matter how rude he is. You're the daughter of the tai-youkai. You should be above all that._'

Belle made a face, stubbornly crossing her arms over her chest. '_He just makes me so_ mad! _I didn't do a thing to him, and you'd think I'd single-handedly started World War Three!_'

'_He might make you mad, Belle, but you _did_ want to kiss him_.'

'_I didn't_.'

'_Don't lie to me_.'

'_I'm not_.'

'_You are_.'

'_That's stupid! I did _not_ want to kiss him! Why would I have wanted to kiss him? He's mean, arrogant, rude, infuriating_---"

'_Sure, he's all those things. He's also articulate, handsome, smart, charming . . . did I mention handsome?_'

Belle snorted. '_Yes, you did, and I don't care. The bad outweighs the good in his case_.'

'_Yeah, and maybe he thinks the same things about you_.'

'. . . _I don't care_.'

'_And you don't breathe, either_.'

The flash of angry golden eyes made her flinch as a shiver ran up her spine. She'd been too close to him, and that look . . . For a moment, he'd held onto that anger. Caught somewhere between the desire to throttle her and just plain desire, he'd been dangerous, and Belle . . .

'_That doesn't make sense_,' she thought with a shake of her head. '_He was angry . . . I was angry . . . One second we were arguing, and the next_ . . .'

'_The next moment he almost kissed you, and you might have let him, had it not been for your misplaced pride_.'

'_Weren't you the one who pointed out that I am the daughter of the tai-youkai? Misplaced pride, indeed_.'

'_You're deliberately missing the point, Belle_.'

'_So what is it, since you know it all?_'

'_The point is that there's something between you two. Don't you think that it's worth looking into?_'

'_No_,' Belle thought with an inward sigh. '_No, I don't think it is_.'

'_You give a whole new meaning to the term 'stubborn'_.'

'_And I'd love for you to give a whole new meaning to the phrase 'seen but not heard'_.'

Gin hurried back into the room with her hair brush in one hand and a pair of tan sandals in the other. Dropping the shoes on the floor, she slipped them on while dragging the brush through her hair. "Okay," she commented after a few strokes. "I'm ready."

Belle smiled and led the way to the door while ignoring the voice of her youkai that just wouldn't shut up. It'd been awhile since she'd gone shopping with another female. It was bound to be fun, she figured.

* * *

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* * *

Kichiro sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose as he frowned at the notebook in his hand. Half of the reason he wore his hair back in a braid most of the time was to keep it out of the way and neat, especially in surgery. He also hated having it flying in his face every time he turned around, too. The other half of the reason was since he didn't have human ears or even youkai ears, his hair held his glasses in place. Luckily for him, he only needed the irritating things to avoid eyestrain when he was reading for prolonged periods of time or when he was working on the computer.

He'd been researching the physical changes that occurred in the mating of youkai and hanyous. He had a hypothesis that seemed sound enough, but since it wasn't really something easily proven, he wasn't sure if he would be able to get his uncle to underwrite the research.

This pet project was one that he'd started years ago, just before Ryomaru and Nezumi had accidentally mated. He and Ryomaru had been out carousing, and Ryomaru had mentioned that it was too bad they couldn't have sex without the repercussions of taking a mate. At the time Kichiro had laughed off his brother, but when he found himself with more and more free time and less and less family interaction, at least with Ryomaru, he'd started working on his preliminary hypothesis. The rest was, as they say, history.

In the cases he'd studied, one thing was clear: the mating, itself, wasn't the mitigating factor in the molecular changes in the youkai or hanyous. It seemed that it was the actual exchange of DNA that did it. Much like the blood transfusions that had replaced the actual marking ritual, if Kichiro could prove his theory . . .

'_This is weird, Kich, just so you know_.'

Kichiro dropped the notebook on his desk and opened the manila file, shuffling papers until he found the slide films he'd ordered up from the one couple who had agreed to let him test their DNA. Holding them up to the light as he squinted to examine them, he shook his head slowly and sighed.

'_It isn't weird at all . . . This pretty much proves it, to me. There wasn't a change when they used a condom during sex. It all had to do with the mixing of DNA, or more precisely, the introduction of semen into the female's reproductive system_ . . .'

'_Feh. So you're basically making it okay for youkai and hanyous to be as fickle as humans?_'

'_Not at all_,' he argued absently. '_There's still the matter of choosing your mate. I'm just saying that it is _possible_ . . . that's all._'

'_Yeah, I'm not so sure Sesshoumaru's gonna like this_.'

'_Does that matter?_'

'_Not really. He was born with a stick up his ass, wasn't he? He don't like anything that goes against tradition_.'

'_He supported the blood transfusions_.'

'_Of course he did. Kami forbid Toga should mark his mate the old fashioned way_.'

Kichiro sighed, letting the film slide out of his fingers onto the stack of papers on his desk. '_I can't say I blame Toga. That's a nasty business._'

'_Speaking of 'nasty business', you going to apologize to Belle?_'

'_Of course not._'

'_So you don't care that you were a real ass, and she called you on it?_'

'_Firstly, she's the one who was throwing herself at the waiter; I didn't pick her up and toss her at him. Secondly I was being nice by trying to let her out of her obligation, and she was completely unnatural! If she hates me so much, just why in hell would she want to keep working for me?_'

'_Maybe she has something to prove_.'

'_Or maybe she likes torturing me with her very presence_.'

'_Balls, Kich, you should have just kissed her when you had the chance, but no, you have to go all noble, and when you did, you gave her a chance to push you away, which she did. Self-inflicted torture, at best_.'

Yanking off his glasses and wincing as the ear piece tangled in his hair, Kichiro jerked them free and tossed them down on the desk. '_That wasn't noble, I didn't want to kiss her, and I didn't mean it _that_ way!_'

'. . . _Baka_.'

Kichiro snorted. '_All right, so maybe I did _think_ about it . . . but _she_ definitely wanted me to kiss her more than _I_ wanted to do it_.'

'_Must be nice to live in denial. Does the sun shine there?_'

'_Shut up_.'

'_Come on, Kich, 'fess up: you want her. She fascinates you_.'

'_Yep, about as much as a horde of rampant youkai fascinates me_.'

'_A horde of rampant youkai? At least you'd have guinea pigs for your case study_.'

'_That's funny, ha ha . . . oh wait, you were _serious_, weren't you?_'

'_Make fun of me all you want, baka. We'll see who has the last laugh_.'

'_Sure we will because it'll be me_.'

'_Answer me one question and I'll leave you alone_.'

'_Forever?_'

'_For now_.'

'_Good enough_.'

'_Okay . . . Are you madder that she didn't like your offer or that she wouldn't kiss you?_'

Kichiro considered the question. Sending his chair scooting back as he shot to his feet and strode toward the door, he wasn't sure which of those things bothered him more. It was a loaded question, no doubt about it.

His youkai snorted as he heard the office door latch behind him. '_Yeah . . . that's what I thought. The non-kiss was definitely worse, in my opinion, too._'

* * *

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* * *

"Gin, how do you like this?"

Gin peeked up from the rack of men's dress shirts to see what Belle was showing her this time. Relieved to see it wasn't another lime green or hot pink concoction, Gin nodded at the cream colored, Henley style shirt. "Oh, that's nice! It looks soft!"

Belle broke into an enigmatic little smile and shook her head but added the shirt to the small pile of them slung over one arm.

"I suppose I should buy Cain a white dress shirt, since that's what I ruined both times," Gin mused. "Linen or cotton?"

"How about silk?"

Gin giggled, smashing her hand over her mouth as she tried to stifle the sound. "Cain? In silk? He doesn't really strike me as a silk man . . ."

"You'd be surprised, I think . . . I'd be willing to bet that if you bought him a silk shirt, he'd wear it."

She wrinkled her nose. "Oh, I don't think I should buy him something that he would feel obligated to wear . . ."

Belle's eyes danced with a conspiratorial twinkle. "You know, Gin . . . I dare you to buy Daddy a silk shirt."

Gin shook her head quickly. "No . . . I don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on, Gin! Prove my theory! Daddy . . . _values_ your opinion . . ."

Gin's hand hesitated over the hangers on the rack. "Really?"

Belle nodded. "Sure he does! You're the first real friend he's had . . . ever . . . or at least so long as I can remember . . ."

"That sounds so lonely . . . It's just the two of you, right?"

"Yeah but it's alright. At least I don't have anyone breathing down my neck or anything; just Daddy, and, well, there are times that he doesn't really notice, at all."

Gin frowned and digested Belle's sad assessment as she slowly picked through the shirts.

'_What are you thinking? You think you can change things just for him, don't you?_'

'_You make it sound like it's a bad thing_.'

'_Not bad, no, but be realistic, Gin . . . There are some things in life that we can't change_.'

'_I . . . I like him. I just want to help him . . . I want him to see that life is good, and . . . Is that so terrible?_'

'_You _really_ like him, don't you? I do, too_.'

'_Well, sure I like him . . . he's funny and smart, strong and gentle, and his artwork is brilliant---just brilliant . . . There's so much I could learn from him!_'

'_There's more to it than that, isn't there, Gin? You don't have to answer because I don't think you understand. I don't even really understand_ . . .'

"Gin? Are you all right?"

Belle's voice cut through Gin's thoughts, and Gin cleared her throat before turning her attention to the younger woman. "What? Oh, I'm fine."

Belle held up a white silk shirt for Gin's approval. "So, I think this screams 'Cain Zelig', don't you?"

"It isn't very serviceable, is it?" Gin asked with a marked frown as she slowly reached out to touch the fabric.

Belle fluttered a hand dismissively. "Serviceable doesn't matter all the time! He'll wear it for special occasions: going out with a friend or . . . stuff like that. Every man needs at least one really nice silk shirt, in my opinion. Even better when the shirt comes from someone else. Really, Gin, you'd be doing me a favor. If I bought it, Daddy wouldn't wear it because, you know, I'm just his daughter. You really should get it for him. I bet he'd figure out he likes it, after all."

"I'd think he'd like it more, coming from his daughter," Gin remarked, studying the shirt with a little frown. "Do you really think so? I'd hate to buy it for him and have him not like it . . ."

Belle shrugged. "Yeah, but it's kind of nice, isn't it? Seeing someone wearing something special that you chose for them instead of not being able to tell if he's worn that shirt since he has so many of them, anyway?"

Gin's frown deepened. Cain did have a lot of plain white shirts, didn't he? '_Would he wear it though? It'd be such a waste if he didn't_ . . .'

'_Get him the shirt, Gin. I think Cain would love any shirt you bought him . . . even that nasty lime green one_ . . .'

Scrunching her face up at the thought of that shirt, Gin hesitantly reached out and took the hanger from Belle. "Okay," she agreed slowly. "If you really think he'll wear it . . ."

Belle giggled, looking quite satisfied with her accomplishment. "Of course he will, Gin. I'd lay a bet on it."

"I hope you're right."

"Trust me, Gin! I know Daddy. Anyway, you two were out pretty late last night, weren't you?"

"Yeah," Gin agreed as she followed Belle toward the checkout counter. "I had a good time, but I think Cain was worried about you. He got pretty quiet . . ."

"Daddy's always quiet. I think he'd be perfectly happy, not talking at all, if it weren't for me bugging him."

"He says I babble too much," Gin confessed, cheeks pinking, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as they waited behind another customer. "I probably do."

Belle laughed. "It doesn't bother him much, does it? I mean, he still likes you, right?"

Gin shrugged, cheeks reddening a little more at Belle's obvious approval.

"I'm glad one of us had a nice time last night. God knows I didn't," Belle grumbled.

"Oh, no . . . I was worried about that . . . I thought maybe Cain should have called to check on you. You're sure you're feeling better today?"

Belle set the pile of clothes on the counter and shook her head. "Fine, fine . . ."

Gin blinked as Belle's cheeks blossomed in color. For the first time, Belle seemed genuinely uneasy, and Gin had to wonder why. "Belle?"

Forcing a smile, Belle shook her head. "It's nothing, really."

"Are you sure? I . . . I can listen."

Belle waited as Gin paid for the shirt and the two stepped out of the shop into the bright afternoon sunshine. Staring at the sidewalk as they strolled down the street, Belle sighed and adjusted the bags in her hands. "I like you, Gin. I can't believe you're actually related to that pig-headed, ill-tempered, narcissistic . . ." Drawing a deep breath as she cut herself off, Belle wrinkled her nose and uttered a low growl. "Sorry . . . I know he's your brother, and I'm sure you love him, but honestly, I can't believe he had the nerve---never mind."

"Nerve?" Gin echoed. "I assume you mean Kichiro again, right? Did he do something else?"

Belle stared at Gin for several seconds, expression chagrined, troubled. "Promise you won't tell Daddy?"

Gin nodded slowly as her youkai told her not to make a promise she wasn't sure she should keep. "Okay."

Satisfied that Gin would keep her word, Belle shrugged and looked like she was trying to find a place to start. "I let him take me to dinner last night. I thought . . . I don't know what I was thinking."

Gin's eyebrows shot up as she stopped in her tracks to gape at Belle. "You went to dinner with Kich? Oh, my . . ."

"It'll never happen again, I assure you."

Gin winced at Belle's acerbic tone. "That bad?"

Belle rolled her eyes. "We just can't seem to come to terms. I decided on the way home that your brother is the lowest form of life there is: an amoeba---lower, even."

"I don't understand . . . I mean, Kich is so nice to everyone, other than Ryo, but I think Ryo likes that, too . . . Lower than an amoeba? Is there such a thing?"

"Sure there is, and his name is Dr. Izayoi. Anyway, on the way home, I thought it over, and I've decided that I'm just going to pretend that he doesn't exist. He did that well enough to me. It's only fair that I return the favor, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?" Gin asked, shaking her head slowly. "You don't mean . . .? Kich didn't . . . Did he make you walk home _alone?_"

Belle snorted. "It was fine. I didn't want his company, the jerk."

"No, it wasn't fine! I can't believe he'd do that! They wouldn't even let me walk home from school alone though normally I just hung around until Papa was ready to leave . . . You're right! What a jerk! Just wait till I get my hands on him! I'll kick his stupid . . . _heinie!_"

Belle blinked in shock as Gin's temper soared. "Gin?"

"The nerve! Sure, he might not have known that you can't fight, but that doesn't make it all right! I ought to tell Mama! She'd . . . she'd . . . she'd _purify_ him!"

Belle grabbed Gin by the shoulders and shook her head. "No, Gin, no! Promise me you won't say anything to Kichiro about this! I . . . I don't want him to know he got to me. I really, really don't. Please."

Gin scowled, obviously not wanting to make the promise Belle was after. "Belle . . ."

"Gin, please. I'd be humiliated if he knew I said anything at all. Please, Gin, I'm begging you."

Gin sighed, shoulders slumping, ears twitching angrily. "All right," she agreed. "I won't say anything . . . and for the record, Kich hates being ignored, so if you can manage that . . ."

Belle let her hands drop and heaved a sigh of relief. "Good."

Gin didn't reply to that. '_That's just unbelievable! Someone needs to slap Kich senseless!_'

'_Yeah, but you gave Belle your word_.'

'_I know . . . it's just wrong! Hypocritical baka_ . . .'

'_Don't worry about that, Gin . . . The question is: why did they go out to dinner together, in the first place?_'

Gin stopped short, frowning as she pondered that particular question. Belle was preoccupied, talking to a guy that Gin hadn't seen approach. He seemed harmless. Gin turned her attention back to the bigger question in her mind. '_That is interesting, isn't it? I mean, Belle said yesterday that she couldn't stand Kichiro, so why would she have gone anywhere with him? Too bad he's such an idiot. They'd make a cute couple _. . .'

* * *

****

**_A/N_**:

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_So Kichiro hates to be ignored? Hmm _…

**_

* * *

_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	15. Giving Her Wings

**_Chapter 15_**

**_Giving Her Wings_**

* * *

"_Not everyone is like you. Not everyone looks at things and sees what you see_."

"_What do you see?_"

"_What do I see?_"

"_When you . . . when you look at me, what do you see?_"

Cain rubbed his temple and heaved a heavy sigh. That was the question he hadn't wanted to answer, wasn't it? What did he see, when he looked at Gin Izayoi?

'_Careful, Cain. You're treading on dangerous ground_.'

For once, Cain didn't disagree with his youkai voice. '_Yeah, I am_.'

'_You know, you don't make it easy. I'm supposed to remind you of your obligations, right? How can I do that when you can't figure out your priorities? Do you hear me? Gin_ . . .'

He nodded and stood, shuffling through the apartment, down the hallway and into his studio. There wasn't a trick to his art. The only real secret to it was closeting himself away, sometimes for days on end. Hiding behind the closed doors in the sanctity of his studio with nothing but his thoughts, and sometimes his daughter. Losing himself in silent contemplation, it was easier to think while his hands were busy. '_Creating beauty while you contemplate the end of your life? That's . . . morbid _. . .'

Ignoring his inner voice while he dug around in the closet, he wasn't sure what he was looking for. He wasn't certain why he felt compelled to do anything at all. Rough granite blocks stood lining the back of the closet. Buckets of clay were stacked in the corner. A few blank canvases on the top shelf were too stark, too white, too pure.

He was about to close the closet when something else caught his eye. Narrowing his eyes as he slowly reached for the large spool of thirty-gauge silver wire, Cain passed it from one hand to the other as he considered. More of a fleeting thought than a real idea, he stepped away, hooked the spindle on a peg mounted on his worktable, and pulled a length of the wire free with one hand as he tugged off his shirt with the other.

As his hands worked the wire, his mind wandered.

_Gin, frowning in concentration as she tried to make sense of Cain's anger . . . He hadn't meant to take it out on her. He shouldn't have gotten so angry at her, but the rawness of the memory still had the power to hurt him even as Gin's softly uttered statement shocked him all over again_.

"_Cain? Was that her name? Belle?_"

'_Yeah . . . yeah, her name was Belle . . . Isabelle_ . . .'

He could still remember that day so clearly. Dragged out of his house about two hundred miles from Miami to attend a visiting production of _Les Miserables_, Cain had been ready to make his excuses and leave when he first saw her in the role of Fantine---Isabelle.

After the show, he'd hung around, letting his friend use his influence to wrangle a meeting with her. Sesshoumaru Inutaisho had been in town on business, and while he wasn't a fan of the theatre, he did have an appreciation for the arts. Couple that with the fact that Kagura had accompanied him on that trip . . . Cain sighed. Men were forever yielding to the sway of a good woman . . .

'_Bend the wire a little more, Cain. You're after delicate, right? You're after 'ethereal. You're after 'light'_ . . .'

Complying with the voice of his youkai, Cain bent the wire and kept working.

It seemed to him that she was always laughing. Sparkling aqua eyes always crinkled at the corners as she filled the house with sounds of happiness. He remembered touching her golden hair, remembered smelling the scent of her that lived on in their daughter. Isabelle was tall for a woman but short in comparison to him. He stood six-feet-eight-inches tall, and Isabelle barely reached his shoulder. Everything about her was slender, graceful. She had the body of a ballerina---had been trained for years in classical ballet. In the end, she preferred the flash of the Broadway lights, but she'd left that all behind for Cain.

Fading into the obscure life with him, it was Isabelle who encouraged Cain to sculpt. She loved to pose for him, loved to sit for hours while he painted her, while he sculpted her. Every so often, he'd see her standing by the windows, gazing out at the ocean, and she seemed so sad. She always told him that he was being ridiculous. She always told him that it was enough for her, to be with him. She said he made her happy, and yet Cain couldn't help but wonder. That faraway look in her gaze . . . Had she been seeing those things she'd left behind? When he asked her, she would laugh at him. She would tell him he was being silly. She told him she was exactly where she wanted to be. Then she would do what she always did to distract him, to lure him out of his bleak thoughts that his mate might not be satisfied; she would take him by the hand and lead him into the bedroom . . .

'_She . . . she said I was silly, and she said she was where she wanted to be . . . She never once said she was happy, did she? She never, ever said_ . . .'

'_Does that matter now? You can't change it, and even then, Isabelle never told you. You'll never know what she really thought . . . Watch the angle of that wire . . . it needs to bend a little more, right there_ . . .'

Isabelle was a natural exhibitionist. From the start, she was more comfortable in front of a thousand pairs of eyes or more, happiest when she was basking in the limelight. Her propensity toward the more risqué spilled over from her acting into real life, and it didn't take long for Cain to realize that the angelic face of the woman he'd chosen was matched only by the wicked streak that Isabelle possessed in abundance. Time and place meant nothing to her. Her sense of propriety was skewed. Love was a beautiful thing, she said, and why should they hide something as beautiful as that? Isabelle didn't care where they were or if they'd be seen. Her lust was unbridled, and her drive to have him was merciless.

She was right, of course. It _was_ a beautiful thing. Everything about her was beautiful. Impetuous, almost foolish, daring yet gentle and kind, Isabelle had laughed at Cain's worries, had rolled her eyes, waved her hand, told him that he was concerned about nothing. They had all the time in the world, didn't they? He'd promised, and still . . .

She was mortal. She was human, and Cain had allowed her to assuage his reticence to do what was necessary to ensure she'd remain beside him. The thought of hurting her was sickening to him, and though he knew it was something that had to be done eventually, he had let her convince him that it didn't have to be done right away. Whether she feared it, herself, or if she simply sensed Cain's reluctance, he'd never know . . .

"_Oh, Cain, you're always so quiet. Don't tell me you're thinking about that marking-thing again." Cain shrugged casually, watching as Isabelle rolled over in bed, as she arched her back to stretch. "Come back to bed, and stop worrying. What's meant to be will be, okay?_"

"_It needs to be done, Belle . . . It really can't wait too much longer_."

"_I know, I know . . . but you're not doing it right now, are you? I've got better plans for today_ . . ."

_Closing his eyes as she pressed her body against his back, as she kissed his neck and reached over his shoulders to rub his chest, Cain forgot to think, didn't he? He forgot everything around Isabelle_ . . .

'_Be careful of that wire. You don't want to scratch her, do you?_'

Wrapping the ends together in the center of the frame, he covered it with white floral tape to blunt the sharp edges.

Isabelle loved the rain. All too often he'd emerge from his studio only to find her gone. The first few times, he'd panicked, and after finding her wandering around in the storm, he dragged her inside, yelled at her for her recklessness. Didn't she know that storms were dangerous? Didn't she realize she could get sick from the damp? If she possessed a modicum of common sense, she didn't show it at times like that. Laughing---always laughing---she'd tell him he was worried about nothing. The rain was her friend. The rain set her free. Had she known then, what the future would bring? Cain shook his head. '_Don't be stupid_.'

Setting the finished frame in the middle of the table, Cain returned to the closet for the tub of fast-setting silicone and six metal clips. Grabbing a tube of iridescent glitter powder as almost an afterthought, he closed the closet and strode back to the table once more.

In his mind, he could still hear Isabelle's laughter. He could hear her sighs, her breathing. He'd made a deal with her, in the end. He needed an heir, and Isabelle wanted her freedom. He hadn't realized back then, the price that it would cost him, and Isabelle hadn't, either. The end result had been the same. His lack of vision, his carelessness, but it had been simpler, to let himself believe that Isabelle might change her mind, or had he even cared? In the end . . . well, he had agreed . . .

'_Is this really doing you any good? Reliving all this history?_'

Cain winced as he dragged his claws through the clear, wet silicone. '_It can't be much worse, can it?_'

'_Pfft! It can _always_ be worse! Oh, wait, that's perfect. Leave it alone. Just mount the clips and you'll be done_.'

Cain followed the advice of his youkai, carefully setting the edges of the metal clips in the rapidly solidifying silicone. Blinking in distaste as his vision cleared, he stared at his filthy claws and snorted. '_You're really good at making messes_,' he pointed out as he pushed out of the room, careful not to touch anything as he shouldered open the bathroom door.

'_Yeah, I know . . . just think, though . . . you really did it_.'

Cain sat on the toilet and started picking the film of silicone off his hands. '_I did it, huh? What did I do?_'

His youkai chuckled as Cain rubbed his hands together, sending strips of the film falling on the floor like clear snow. He was washing his hands when his youkai spoke again.

'_You made her wings, Cain_.'

Cain froze as his heart stopped for a moment before hammering out a painful pattern against his ribcage. '_I . . . no-o-o-o-o_ . . .'

His youkai laughed again.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Daddy! I'm home!" Belle called as she pushed the door closed with her elbow. "Come see what I bought you . . . Daddy?"

Belle frowned. She could sense him near, knew he was home, but he wasn't answering, and that was strange. Dropping the bags on the nearest chair, Belle started down the hallway. '_In his studio, I suppose . . . How predictable!_'

She reached for the door handle but paused when she heard her father inside, and the sound . . . '_Growling?_'

Nudging the door open, Belle smashed her hand over her mouth before she could interrupt him with her shocked gasp.

Cain stood by the worktable grasping a beautiful set of wings in his hands. Judging from the looks of him, he was ready to destroy them, but it was Cain's eyes that gave her pause. Flashing from crimson to deep blue, she'd never seen him in such a state before. She'd never seen him so furious, had never seen him that close to losing control. Why would he have created something so lovely and then be angry about it?

"Daddy?" she whispered, her voice barely discernable though she had little doubt that he'd hear her.

He hesitated at the sound of her voice. Belle carefully slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. "Daddy?" she repeated a little louder.

Cain's head jerked to the side, his wild gaze finally lighting on Belle, and she shook her head. "What are you doing?"

The anger drained out of him so rapidly that it stunned Belle. Slumping back against the wall as the emotion drained out of the air surrounding her father, Belle winced.

"Bellaniece . . ."

"What's wrong?"

He sighed, turning his gaze back on the wings still clutched in his hands. "I . . ."

"You're not . . . going to destroy those, are you?" Belle asked carefully.

Cain's back stiffened, and she braced herself for another show of his anger. It didn't return, but the sadness that surrounded him, the confusion that enveloped him . . . Belle grimaced. "I don't know what I was thinking," he admitted. "Maybe I wasn't thinking at all."

Straightening her back, Belle slowly walked over to Cain, rounded him to stand by his side as she reached out and gently turned his face toward hers. "Maybe you just wanted to do something nice for the girl next door who makes you cakes every night because she wants to. Does it have to be more than that?"

Cain seemed surprised by Belle's words, but he nodded slowly, and he tried to smile. "No, it doesn't, does it? Gin . . . she's a really . . . she's . . ."

Belle smiled. "Yes, Daddy, she is. She'll love those, I'm sure. They're beautiful."

Cain sighed as he held up the wings for inspection. Narrowing his gaze critically, he tilted his head from side to side as he examined his work. "This isn't . . . completely stupid?"

Belle rolled her eyes and leaned on her toes to kiss Cain's cheek. "Nope, not stupid in the least. Stupid would have been to tear them up. So . . . are you going to give them to her before or after I show you your new clothes?"

Cain groaned.

Belle laughed as she watched her father stalk toward the door. "I thought as much . . . coward."

Cain waved over his shoulder without looking back or breaking his stride.

"Oh, I have a date."

That stopped Cain. Whipping around on his heel, he paused in the doorway and cocked an eyebrow at his daughter. "You have a . . .?"

"A date," Belle said again, flashing her father her most winning smile. "He's a very nice young man . . . I met him today after Gin and I---"

"Gin?"

"Yes, Gin went with me since I'm not too familiar with Tokyo," Belle went on, wisely not commenting on her father's choked tone of voice. "Anyway, he'll come by tomorrow, and he said he'd be happy to meet you before he takes me to dinner and a movie. His name is Raidon, and he's calling for me at five o'clock."

Cain looked like he wanted to demand that she cancel. In the end he snorted and shook his head. "So . . . did Gin . . . meet . . . anyone?" he asked at last, failing in his mission to keep his tone nonchalant.

Belle grinned. "She sure did. He was big and broad and handsome . . . Oh, and he wants her to be his cake fairy, too."

Cain flushed about seven shades of red and snapped his mouth closed on whatever retort he'd formed before stomping down the hallway. Moments later, Belle heard the door slam shut, and she burst out laughing. "Oh, Daddy . . . you've got it bad, don't you? Don't forget your shirt."

'_That was a dirty trick, Bellaniece . . . You'd better hope he didn't believe you, and the bit about the shirt would have been more welcome had he heard it._'

Belle rolled her eyes as she skipped out of the studio. '_Maybe, but you know . . . I think Daddy was ignoring his brain for once and thinking with his heart, instead . . . and I think Gin would enjoy seeing Daddy's chest_ . . .'

'_Still_ . . .'

'_Oh, lighten up, you! You just hate to admit that maybe I'm really right this time! Gin is the best thing to happen to Daddy in . . . forever!_'

'_Yeah, and while we're on the subject of living in the state of denial_---'

'_We weren't._'

'_Close enough . . . Why did you agree to the date with Raidon?_'

Belle's ebullient mood wavered. '_He seemed nice, didn't he?_'

'_Sure, he seemed nice. He seemed _disgustingly_ nice. _Boringly_ nice. Get the picture?_'

Belle let out a deep breath, sending her bangs flying straight up in the air. '_I know . . . Nice and boring . . . absolutely no one I'd ever consider to be my mate_.'

'_Ah, so he's safe, you mean?_'

Belle made a face as the remnants of her good mood popped like an over-inflated balloon. '_Yeah. Safe_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_I can think of a thousand reasons why this is just a really, really bad idea_.'

'_No one will know, right? I mean, I was just curious, is all_ . . .'

'_Your curiosity will be the death of us both, you know that?_'

Gin ignored the common sense of her youkai and stripped off the little blue sundress she was wearing. Dropping it in a careless heap on the floor, she bit her bottom lip and grabbed the white silk shirt she'd bought for Cain.

'_At least put a bra on, Gin!_'

Gin made a face as she pulled on the billowing shirt and buttoned it, leaving the top button undone despite the wide collar that went along with the large shirt. '_No one's going to know; I'll only have it this shirt on for a minute, and what's the sense of putting on a bra when I'll just take it off again to put that dress back on?_'

'_Which is hardly the point!_'

'_Kami, this thing is huge! I mean, I knew Cain was tall and everything, but I could swim in here!_' Gin marveled as she held her arms up and stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. '_I could fit ten of me in this! Wow!_'

'_Ten? Not hardly . . . maybe three_.'

'_Hmm, well, ten or three or something in between, the point is . . . Cain's really big, isn't he?_'

'_Gin_---"

The telephone rang, and Gin pulled her hair out of the collar as she darted to the living room to answer.

"Gin? It's Kich. The old man wanted me to call to remind you that you're expected at home tonight."

Gin rolled her eyes. "Oh, you . . . I have a bone to pick with you, Kich . . ."

"With me? What's that?"

'_Gin, you promised!_' her youkai hissed.

She sighed, remembering the promise before she stuck her foot in it. "Never mind."

"Well, don't forget about going home, okay?"

"Like I'd forget, Kich. I'll be there, I'll be there. Are you going to be there?"

"Of course."

"Yeah, well, consider yourself challenged when I see you. I'm going to hurt you."

He laughed at her claim. "You and whose army, baby girl?"

"Oi, baka! Like I need an army to take you on, you pathetic excuse for a hanyou!"

"Kami, you sound like a female version of the old man. You want me to come by and get you?"

Gin wrinkled her nose. "No, thanks. I think I can manage finding my way home, Kich."

"All right. Just be careful. See you."

"Bye."

She hung up the phone and crossed her arms over her chest as she gazed at the receiver. Even if she couldn't yell at Kichiro over his stupid behavior, she could try to beat on him, instead . . .

Sighing, Gin dropped her arms and started to shuffle back to her bedroom. It was starting to get late, and she really ought to leave soon . . .

A loud thump on her door startled her, and Gin squeaked out a tiny yip as she wheeled around and ran to see who was there. She didn't need to check the peephole to sense Cain's youki, and without a second thought, she opened the door. "Cain! Hi! What are you . . . doing . . . here . . .?" Trailing off as she stared, wide eyed, at Cain's bare chest, and more importantly, the teal stripes that wrapped around Cain's sides, Gin shook her head slowly. "Are those . . .?"

He made a face as he stared at the wall over her head. "Yeah, they're . . . uh . . . your wings."

"Wings?" she echoed with a perplexed shake of her head. "That's new . . . They're really . . . _nice_."

Cain shrugged, bracing his free hand on the base of his neck. "They _are _wings."

"Can I . . . I _really_ want to touch them."

" . . . Okay."

Ignoring what he held out to her, Gin stepped closer, lifting her clawed index fingers to lightly trace over the tips of the stripes on Cain's abdomen. With a gasp, he jerked back. Gin jumped. "Sorry."

"What . . . my . . . Here," he finished, thrusting the wings out toward her.

"But---"

"Your wings," he grumbled. Gin blinked slowly as she finally saw what he was trying to give her.

'_Oh, I can't believe I did that_ . . .'

'_Well . . . those crests of his are . . . nice_.'

'_Yeah, they are_ . . .'

'_Gin, pay attention! He made you_ wings!'

Willing away the embarrassment over her overly-bold behavior, Gin took the construction very gingerly, as though she were afraid it would tear in her hands. The silver wire frame was sturdy but not heavy, and he'd filled the wings with a clear silicone streaked with iridescent glitter swirled into a pattern of veins. Six metal clips were fitted into the silicone to fasten to her dress, and Gin stared, speechless.

"It's stupid . . . you can throw them away, if you want," he told her as he turned to leave.

Her hand shot out to stay him, and he slowly turned back to face her. "No! Why would I . . .? Oh, Cain . . . they're . . . beautiful . . . You . . . you made me wings?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. "For the, uh, cake fairy . . ."

She smiled and giggled, lifting the back of her left hand to her lips to subdue the sound. "Will you . . .?"

Taking the wings from her as she turned around and held up her hair, Cain carefully clipped the wings to the back of the silk shirt for her.

Gin let her hair down and tried to turn from side to side to see the wings that kept moving with her efforts.

Cain cleared his throat, and chuckled. "You'd have more luck if you have a mirror, Gin," he pointed out.

She snapped her fingers and grabbed his hand, dragging him behind her as she led the way to her bedroom. "Silly me! I knew that! I have a mirror in here."

"Gin?"

"Hmm?" she asked as she smiled at her reflection in the mirror and completely missing the choked sound of Cain's voice.

"I'll wait out in the living room," he stated.

"What? Oh . . . it's fine! Just my bedroom, that's all. I don't mind."

"Yeah, about that---"

"And you really made these? Just for me? No one's ever made me wings before!"

He stared into the mirror, into her eyes. "You deserve wings, Gin . . ." He looked like he wanted to say something else, and Gin held her breath as that strange feeling rumbled through her stomach again. Cain dropped his gaze, his cheeks reddening just a little, and he stepped back. "Bellaniece said you met a . . . someone today."

Gin turned to face him, frowning as she slowly shook her head. "I didn't . . . She did. I just went with her to help her find shops, and---Oh! I bought you a shirt!" She winced inwardly as she realized where the shirt in question was. "Uh . . . _this_ shirt, actually . . ."

Holding up her arms to show him the shirt, Gin tried not to blush as he slowly shook his head. "It's for . . . me?"

She nodded.

"But it's on . . . you."

She nodded again as her cheeks heated more.

"And you have it on because . . .?"

Gin bit her bottom lip and flattened her ears for a moment. "I just wondered how big it really was," she explained, hoping---praying---that it didn't sound nearly as lame to him as it just had to herself.

"And?" he prompted, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back as a tiny grin twitched at the corners of his lips, obviously enjoying her discomfort.

"And . . . it's . . . _really_ big, but the silk is really nice! It's so soft! You want to feel it?" she asked, lifting the shirttail from her knee and extending it toward him.

Cain backed away, hands shooting up in surrender. "Nope, nope . . . I believe you. It looks . . . really . . . soft."

"It's longer than most of my skirts!" she mused as she leaned forward to reach around and unclasp the wings. Grimacing in her effort to unhook the wings without incident, Gin leaned over a little more.

Cain cleared his throat loudly and stepped toward her. "Let me get that, Gin, before you . . . hurt yourself."

"Thanks, Cain," she replied as she stood back up and waited patiently for him to unfasten the wings. "You're sort of my hero, too."

He stopped for a moment. Gin peeked up at him. He was staring at the clasps with a thoughtful frown, but his eyes were inordinately bright. "Cain?"

"There," he interrupted, stepping back, holding the wings. "I'd better go. Bellaniece said she wanted to show me what she bought."

"Hold on a minute, and I'll give you this shirt . . . if you'll wear it . . . If you don't want to, I can get you another one."

"That one's fine . . . Uh . . . just give it to me later, okay?"

"Are you sure? Bellaniece said---"

"It's okay. You didn't have to replace my shirt."

"It'll only take a minute to change," she assured him. "I can't believe you made me real wings!"

"Yeah," he mumbled. "It was just a thought."

"A _beautiful_ thought! I love them!" Before she could stop to think about it, Gin tugged Cain's arm, rising up on her toes as he bent forward, and kissed his cheek. "Thank you!"

Cain looked a little dazed as color filtered into his cheeks again. He grimaced then buried his hands in his pockets, clearing his throat as he stared at his feet. "Gin . . ."

Gin smiled then grimaced as she caught sight of the clock on her nightstand. "Oh, no! I'm late! Cain, I'm sorry, but you have to go . . . I'm supposed to be over at my parents' house now . . . I don't think I'm going to make it . . ."

Cain blinked in surprise at Gin's abrupt dismissal. Without waiting for the question she could see forming in his mind, she grabbed his hand and dragged him back through the apartment, not stopping till she was holding open the door. "Night, Cain, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Is everything okay, Gin?"

"Yep, just fine! Absolutely great! I've got to hurry . . . good night!"

Wincing as she closed the door gently but firmly in his face, Gin didn't have time to worry over that as she sprinted back toward her bedroom to change. Sparing another quick glance at the clock, Gin sighed. There wasn't any way she was going to make it, and, well . . .

'_Papa's going to be furious_.'

'_Not just your papa, Gin . . . Ryo and Kich will be, too, and your Mother will not be impressed, either, I'd wager_.'

Tossing the silk shirt on the bed as she jerked her dress off the floor and yanked it up over her legs and hips, Gin let a small whine escape. '_I'm dead_,' she decided. '_They'll kill me, all of them_ . . .'

'_Don't worry about that, Gin! They'll understand if you call and explain it. After all, it's not every day you get your wings_.'

That didn't reassure Gin. She groaned and sank down on the edge of her bed. '_And if I told them that, they'd kill Cain, no questions asked. Nope . . . I'm just dead_.'

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_Want to give a quick shout out to another fabulous artist who has to date done arts of Toga, Ryomaru and Nezumi, the Cake Fairy … and they're all on Deviant art and the SuericFanfictions website … http(colon double-slash)xuaeved(dot)deviantart(dot)com_ …

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_He made her wings_?

**_

* * *

_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	16. Cain’s Discovery

**_Chapter 16_**

**_Cain's Discovery_**

* * *

"Daddy, you're making me nervous. Sit down and relax or something."

Cain shot his daughter a cursory glance and snorted. "There's something weird going on. Are you sure she didn't mention anything to you today?"

Bellaniece dropped her magazine on the coffee table and pulled her hair over her shoulder, flipping up the ends between her fingers to check for split ends. "If it bothers you so much, call her."

"She's not home. Her youki is gone, and she said she had to go somewhere."

Wisely keeping her opinion of her father's keen senses to herself, Bellaniece tossed her hair back and slowly shook her head.

He'd worked himself up into a bundle of raw nerves. From the moment he'd arrived at Gin's door, nothing went the way it should have. When she'd touched his crests, he'd nearly jumped out of his skin. In truth, he'd forgotten that he had taken off his shirt before he started working. That was normal. He couldn't believe he'd been stupid enough not to remember to put it back on. Her light touch had been electrifying, and as much as Cain hated to admit it, he'd welcomed it.

'_Welcomed it? You loved it, Cain. You hate yourself because you loved it, just like the wings_.'

'_The wings_,' he thought with an inward wince. '_Damn . . . that was stupid . . . I should have destroyed them_.'

'_To what purpose, really? I might critique your art as you work, but you're the one who chooses what to make. On some level you knew what you were doing, and that's what bothers you most_.'

He paced the floor again, shaking his head in silent argument. '_I don't choose, do I? When have I ever chosen? I select the medium but you're the one who chooses how I do it. Those wings . . . they were a mistake. Maybe Gin does deserve to have her own wings, but . . . I don't deserve to be the one to give them to her. I can't . . . I'll never_ . . .'

'_She's your friend, Cain; just your friend. She hasn't asked you for anything else, has she? Do you really think she'd expect something from you that isn't yours to offer?_'

'_Isabelle . . . I owe her. I promised her . . . How can I think about Gin when Isabelle . . .?_'

'_Maybe you think about Gin because she isn't afraid to touch you. She's not afraid of your anger. She's not afraid of you_.'

'_Of course she isn't afraid of me. I don't think she knows there're things in this world she ought to fear_.'

'_And she kissed you_.'

Cain sighed. '_And she kissed me_.'

'_It was nice, wasn't it? That kiss_ . . .'

Wincing inwardly, Cain had to concede that, too. '_It was . . ._ really _nice_.'

The image of Gin in that white silk shirt was painful. In those moments, he'd realized that as she stood in front of the windows, and as the late evening sunshine filtered in, it also showed every single line of Gin's silhouette; all the curves of the woman she really was that belied the diminutive height, and when she leaned over . . .

He'd caught the flash of creamy skin, the swell of her breasts peeking from the unbuttoned collar of the shirt. The sight had nearly brought him to his knees. Gin and silk was definitely a match forged in the fiery bowels of hell, and being in her bedroom, where her scent seemed far more concentrated, had taken its toll on his nerves. In the end, he'd barely been able to step away from her and her innocent smile, away from the woman-child who compelled him to entertain thoughts of things that he didn't wish for.

Belle smothered a yawn with the back of her hand and peeked at her father through her thick fringe of sooty eyelashes. "She has a cell phone, right?"

Cain stopped pacing and stabbed Belle with a narrow-eyed look. "Not a word, Bellaniece," he warned as he grabbed the phone and dug Gin's cell phone number out of his wallet.

Bellaniece rolled her eyes and stood up.

Cain stared at the phone.

'_You know, if there's nothing wrong, you're going to look like a damn fool_.'

'_And if there is?_'

'_If there is you get to be the hero. Does the risk outweigh the reward?_'

Cain made a face. '_It wasn't right. She was behaving strangely_.'

'_Then call her_.'

He sighed. '_Or I could just be making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe it was one of her relatives' birthdays or something_ . . .'

'_Then don't call her_.'

'_Then again, on the off chance that something happened to her on the way over there, would anyone know, and if they did, would anyone be able to go get her?_'

'_Then call her_.'

'_I'm going to end up looking like an idiot_ . . .'

'_Then don't. Cain . . . just call her or hang up the phone, damn it_.'

'_Pfft! Fine! Hell, you're really grouchy lately_.'

'_You did not just call_ me _grouchy, did you, Cain?_'

Cain punched in the number and held the phone to his ear. '_Yes, I did. Now hush. It's ringing_.'

"Hello?"

Cain unconsciously gripped the phone tighter. Gin sounded a little frightened, almost as if she were scared of something. "Gin? You okay?"

"Cain? Cain! Oh, uh, yeah . . . I'm fine . . ."

Leaning his head to the side to hold the phone between his ear and his shoulder while he put the number back into his wallet, he frowned. "You don't sound fine."

She sighed. "It's nothing. It was too late to go to Mama and Papa's house, and Papa's a little mad at me . . ."

"Where are you?"

"Home."

"You're not home . . . I'd know if---"

'_And you tell me to hush? Idiot_.'

'_Shut the hell up, you!_'

'_You're such a dog, Cain!_'

'_And you're a pain in my_---'

'_Woof!_'

"I'm home," she stated again.

"Can't you go over to your parents' house now?"

". . . No."

He grabbed the phone and straightened his back as he frowned out the window at the blackened night sky. "Well . . . what if I went with you? You'd be safe then, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, it isn't . . . I can't . . . no . . . Papa said that I'm supposed to just stay here and not open the door for anyone."

"Gin, what's wrong?"

"Nothing really . . ."

He shook his head. "You want me to come over?"

"Oh, I'd like----oh, no . . . I can't open the door for anyone, not even Papa, he said."

"You're not making much sense."

"I know," she replied miserably. "I'd better go. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, Gin . . . why can't you open the door?"

Gin sighed again. ". . . Because Papa said . . ."

"Okay, other than that. What was your father's reasoning for you not opening your door?"

"Oh, that . . . It's nothing."

Cain smiled just a little as the edges of panic dulled despite the lingering concern that was tinged by a hint of intrigue. "You're a really bad liar."

Gin laughed weakly. "I just can't; that's all."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bellaniece grab her purse off the table by the door. "Hold on, Gin." Turning to face his daughter, Cain cleared his throat loudly. "And just where do you think you're going, Bellaniece?"

Bellaniece rolled her eyes. "I was going down to get a new magazine, Daddy . . . nothing earth shattering."

"Oh, no, you're not. You're not stepping foot out of this apartment till morning."

"Daddy---"

"No."

"Is tonight her human night, too?"

Cain's eyebrows shot up at Gin's question, and, more to the point, the very end of it. "Too?"

"Oh, um . . . I meant . . . well . . . uh . . ."

"I see."

"Fine, then," Bellaniece stated loudly. "I'm going to bed. Might as well. Night, Daddy."

"Night, Bellaniece."

Smiling as he watched his daughter's haughty retreat, he shook his head before turning his attention back to Gin, who had remained conspicuously silent since her blatant slip. "Gin . . ."

"Y-yes?"

"Your window open?"

Gin hesitated. "Yes, but---"

"Okay."

He hung up the phone, cutting off whatever Gin was babbling, and strode over to lock and chain his door. Bellaniece was safe enough. On her human night, she didn't look any different, really, other than her ears were human for real, and her markings---the ones he'd insisted that she keep hidden at all times---were gone. She'd be safe enough. He was close by, should she need him. Hell, he wasn't going that far . . .

Gin's words ran through his mind as he dissolved into his energy form and flew out the window into the night.

"_If you think I look like my mother now, you should see me on my human night_."

Damn it, he wanted to see her---his silver and gold cake fairy---as a human.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin set her sketchpad on the table and dropped the pencil on it as she scowled at the ringing telephone and crawled over to grab the receiver. The cool night breeze that blew in the window brought a wave of gooseflesh to the backs of her legs as she braced her feet against the sofa cushions and leaned over the back to reach the telephone. '_Would have been easier to get up and go over there_,' she mused as she snatched the receiver by the short antenna. Hitting the 'talk' button as she turned to flop back on the sofa, she yelped instead as she realized she wasn't alone. "You! How did you---?"

"Gin? Who are you talking to?" Ryomaru demanded on the other end of the call. "Who the hell is 'you', and what the fuck does '_you'_ smell like?"

Gin winced. "You? I . . . uh … I . . . oh . . . um …. _Television!_" she blurted at last. Cain wasn't moving. Standing in the middle of her living room with his arms crossed over his chest---he'd put a shirt on, at least---with a narrow-eyed stare directed at her, he didn't acknowledge hearing her at all. His stance was wary, guarded, and he seemed like he was trying to figure out something. A distinct shiver ran up Gin's spine as goose bumps broke out on her skin. '_Why is he staring at me like that? It's like he . . . I don't know, but_ . . .' Brushing off the strange feelings that ebbed through her, Gin turned her attention to convincing Ryomaru that there was nothing going on, instead. "I'm watching television."

"Uh huh," Ryomaru agreed, obviously not buying her story.

"Did you need something?" Gin asked, hoping that her brother wouldn't find it odd that she was so obviously trying to rush him off the phone.

Ryomaru snorted. "The old man wanted me to call and make sure you were home and that you hadn't let anyone into your apartment."

"No," she hedged, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. "_I_ didn't let anyone in . . ."

'_Absolutely not. Cain flew in, by himself, through the window_.'

'_Yeah, and if your brothers or father find out_ . . .'

'_I know_ . . .'

"Good," Ryomaru went on. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Gin lied, wishing Cain would move, blink---something.

"All right. The old man will probably call in an hour or so."

"No, it's fine, I'm just---"

With a sigh, Gin clicked off the phone. Ryomaru had hung up before she could get her sentence out. '_That figures . . . baka._'

'_Don't worry about Ryomaru_,' her youkai growled. '_Worry about Cain. He still hasn't moved, not one inch_.'

"Cain? What's . . . wrong . . .?"

Cain didn't answer. Slowly prowling in a wide circle around her, he kept his eyes on her as he stared, eyes incomprehensible as he made the circuit around her living room. Gin drew her knees up, ducked her chin. In her human form, she couldn't smell very well, couldn't hear things that she normally could . . . She felt entirely vulnerable and almost afraid.

'_Afraid? It's Cain, doll, and Cain wouldn't hurt you_.'

'_But . . . he's looking at me like that . . . and I . . . Why?_'

'_I . . . don't think it's_ bad, _Gin. I mean, look at him---_really _look at him_ . . .'

Following the advice of her youkai, Gin tried to figure out just what he was thinking. She hadn't realized how much she relied on her other senses. The disadvantage left her with a knot in the pit of her stomach, an anxiety that rose thick in her chest despite her mental assurances that he was Cain, and she knew him.

"You're making me nervous," she finally blurted, unable to stand the mounting tension that hung in the air. Even in human form she could feel it. He needed to say something---_anything_---or she just might scream.

"You really look . . . different," he remarked without a change in facial expression. "Not like your mother, though . . . I can see her, in you . . . just not as much as you led me to believe."

Gin wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her raised knees. "You probably shouldn't be here," she admitted, brushing aside the feeling that she would rather walk over a river of fire than to be left alone. "No one's supposed to know. Papa says it's dangerous."

Cain sank down on the sofa beside Gin and leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands dangling, and he shrugged. "Your secret's safe with me, but I don't see why you, of all people, would be in danger. Who would hurt you?"

"Why do you say that?" she couldn't help but ask.

Cain shrugged. "I can't see it . . . You're . . . they wouldn't. They _couldn't_."

His answer didn't really make sense. Gin sighed and scrunched her shoulders up. "It's not so much me, but . . . I suppose with Uncle Sesshoumaru being tai-youkai here, and of course Papa being who he is . . . Ryomaru's a hunter, and Kichiro . . . He doesn't really make enemies, but he _is_ well-known."

Cain nodded slowly but seemed surprised. "I see . . . Your brother is a hunter?"

"Yeah, and a few years ago he got into a pretty nasty confrontation with a gang of youkai . . . That didn't really help the situation. Papa's always been adamant that we hide our nights, but," she turned her head, resting her cheek on her knees as she stared at the wall without really seeing it. "After that, Papa insisted that I stay in the house and near him in case something should happen."

"This is the first time you've been alone on your human night, isn't it?"

Gin nodded then shook her head as a little smile surfaced on her lips. "It was," she agreed, "but you're here now."

A startled expression momentarily passed over his features. "So I am."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain was staring at Gin. He knew he was staring. He couldn't help it. He'd become so accustomed to seeing her with her long silver hair and golden eyes, with her easy smile and with those ears . . . Those little hanyou ears of hers had become mood indicators, and without those, she was far more mysterious. Her eyes were such a deep shade of brown that in the half-light of the living room, they looked black, and her silky silver hair had been replaced by glossy raven locks. The effect was astounding. Even as a human she'd possess the same allure that she did as a hanyou, and that was frightening. Darkness and light converged in her, and the contrast was amazing. More subdued, reluctant to move off the sofa, or so it seemed, the Gin he knew had been replaced for the night by this timid girl.

'_She's scared, Cain. She's ready to jump at her own shadow. We might have come over here just to see what she looks like, but we really can't leave her, can we?_'

'_What do you expect? She's already said that she's never spent her human night alone. I might not like her father at all, but I have to respect a man who can protect his daughter the way InuYasha Izayoi has protected Gin_.'

'_Respect it? Sure . . . We can still take him_ . . .'

He shook his head and shot Gin a surreptitious glance. She was gazing at her human hands with a distinct frown, like she was willing them to be hanyou again. It had to be difficult, dealing with the complete change in perception and strengths when one was reduced to human state, even if it was only for a night. Bellaniece had trouble with nights like that, too. As an infant, she'd cried all night, and Cain could only try his best to comfort her despite the nagging feeling that he had somehow done that to her; that he was responsible for Bellaniece's upset. Child of a youkai and a human . . . hanyou . . .

There were always just enough days between those nights that she would forget the fear and the upset in the time between. Each month was another night like the month before, and Cain had gotten into the habit of being near her both before and after, making sure he was accessible to his daughter. Bellaniece would cry, and if Cain put her down, she'd scoot into a corner with her hands either covering her ears or tugging on her earlobes, staring at her surroundings with unmasked fear, complete dread, terror so deep that Cain could feel it, too.

'_Come on, Cain . . . look at her! She looks . . . she looks like Bellaniece used to_.'

'. . . _I know._'

'_We can't leave her like that, Cain . . . I mean, she's . . . she's scared_.'

'_I know that, too . . . What do you suggest, oh-ye-stupid-youkai?_'

'_I don't know . . . make her smile, for God's sake! Hurry it up, will you? She just might cry_ . . .'

'_How?_'

'_I don't know! You're the one in charge, here . . . Do something, and fast!_'

"So what do you normally do at your parents' house on nights like tonight?" he asked, trying to cajole Gin out of her silence.

Gin looked confused. "Nothing . . . Mama normally looks at a magazine or something. Papa normally reads through school papers . . . Sometimes I sketched them, though. The twins are normally arguing . . . or trying to find new ways to annoy Papa . . ."

"Gin . . . are you okay?" he asked as he gently touched her arm.

Gin jumped and squeaked out a noise that resembled a yelp but didn't quite make it. "I'm fine!" she assured him, her smile too bright, too happy. "You, uh . . . you don't have to stay here . . ."

The phone rang again, and Cain winced as Gin repeated the process of nearly screaming. Scrambling for the telephone, she smashed her fist against her heart as she hit the 'talk' button with her free hand and lifted the phone to her human ear.

'_Hear that, Cain? We can go . . . she doesn't need us . . . she said so_.'

'_She's lying. You know it, and I know it. Damn it, she's a rotten liar, isn't she?_'

'_Stop trying to be her hero! She doesn't need one; she has her papa . . . Unless you _want_ to be her hero? Cain? Is that it?_'

Cain snorted. '_Of course not. That's absurd_.'

'_Make up our mind, will you? I'm starting to get really confused_.'

'_I have made up my mind_.'

'_Maybe, but Gin_---'

'_Gin's a friend, and she's scared---that's all_.'

'_Fine, but just for the record? You might want to remember something else_.'

'_What?_'

'_You left Bellaniece home alone so you could come over here. You realize that, don't you?_'

Cain didn't answer.

"I . . . um . . . err . . . uh . . . well . . . I-I-I don't know why Ryomaru would say that, Papa . . . I'm alone . . ." Gin insisted, wrapping a strand of hair around her fingers in a decidedly nervous manner. "No! No . . . I'm fine, really! You don't need to come over, and---"

Hiding his amusement behind a raised hand, Cain shook his head and wished he had a tablet and pens. The look on Gin's face was priceless, and he felt compelled to commit her image to paper. Her thin white cotton shorts billowed around her legs like one of the flirty little skirts she favored, and the light pink tank top didn't hide a thing.

When he had changed back from his energy form in the middle of the room only to see her contorted over the back of the sofa in that outfit that just didn't hide anything at all, he'd nearly stumbled. Coupled with the change in her appearance, and when she turned around . . . He hadn't realized what cooler air would do to her, but in that moment, staring at her in that flimsy, form-fitting shirt, he certainly learned fast. Wasn't it simpler to think that she was just too young from her demeanor and naiveté at times? The startling reminder that she wasn't nearly as much of a pup as he wanted to believe . . . It hadn't been kind to his equilibrium.

Huddled on the sofa with her legs drawn up to her chest as she leaned heavily against the back and rubbed her forehead in a defeated sort of way, Gin shot Cain a panicked glance, and he shrugged in helpless reply. Scrunching her toes up, she dug her feet into the cushions. Cain tamped down the perverse urge to grab her ankles and tickle the soles of her feet.

"No, Papa, it was the television," Gin insisted as she untangled her legs and stood up, heading toward the kitchen as she tried to placate her father. "I'm fine, I promise!"

His gaze fell on the coffee table. Her sketchpad lay open with a drafting pencil on top, and before he thought it over, he grabbed it and started to turn to a clean page.

'_Wait, Cain . . . what's she drawing?_'

Stopping at his youkai's question, Cain critically eyed the page. The sketch of a bare-chested man in baggy pants who didn't have a face yet despite the outline of the features and the soft graphite wisps of hair. '_Who . . .?_'

His question trailed off as he narrowed his gaze. On the man's chest, wrapping around his sides over his abs, ending just past the concave of his ribs, the faint lines of definite stripes . . . '_Me?_'

The knowledge that Gin had drawn him slammed straight through him, leaving him stunned as he slowly shook his head and tried to ignore the unmistakable wash of arrogant pride.

Gin set two bottles of water on the coffee table as she spoke into the phone, having not noticed that Cain was holding her sketchpad. "I'm fine, Papa, I swear . . . I'm just going to finish this sk-eee-etch . . ."

Cain jerked the tablet out of Gin's reach as the girl tried to grab it out of his hand. He glanced at her, eyebrows lifting as she blushed and swatted at the pad again and slowly, deliberately, got to his feet. "Give me that!" she hissed, hopping up and down as she tried to grab the sketchbook that he waved above her head. "What? No, Papa, nothing . . . I was, uh, err, umm, talking to the television---again."

"Forget it, baby girl," Cain teased in a whisper, lowering the book just enough to entice her before jerking it away.

She narrowed her gaze on him but refused to give up as she scampered onto the sofa and leaned toward him to grab the book. "Okay," she mumbled tilting her head to hold the phone and free both hands, "I know, 'don't let anyone into my apartment,' Papa. Bye." Pausing long enough to disconnect the call before dropping the receiver into the sofa cushions beside her, Gin made a face as she grabbed at the notebook again. "Cain! Give me that!"

"You can have it if you can take it," he challenged, chuckling as Gin nearly lost her balance. She was maybe an inch or two taller than him, but her arms were too short to intercept the sketchpad.

"This isn't funny," she scolded. "Cain!"

"Something in here you don't want me to see?" he asked casually.

She wrinkled her nose as her cheeks reddened. "No!"

"Then why are you so anxious to get it back?"

"It's . . . mine!" she grunted as she hopped up and down again.

"You're going to fall if you're not careful," he told her.

Gin leaned on his shoulder and stretched for the book. "Cain! It's not very nice of you to take my sketchbook!"

"Yeah? And just what do you think you're going to do about it, baby girl?"

"You'll be sorry," she promised, pushing herself onto her tiptoes, leaning on his shoulder a little more, stretching her fingers out as she tried to grab the book again. "Cain, give it back!"

"Uh, err, um . . . well . . . _no_," he countered.

"Cain!"

"Beg me, Gin."

Her face contorted in an outraged frown. He laughed. "Please!"

"That wasn't begging," he remarked.

She growled in frustration, using his shoulder to launch herself a little higher as she bounced around to retrieve the book. "That's as close as you're going to get, mister!"

"Mister?" he choked.

"Yeah, _mister!_ Give it back!"

"What'd you draw?"

"Nothing!"

"Tell me why I don't believe that."

"Because you're being stubborn and . . . _mean!_"

Cain twisted away from Gin, waving the sketchbook to further her irritation.

'_She's right, Cain, you're really being mean_.'

'_At least she's not scared anymore_.'

'_Hmm . . . good point_.'

'_I thought so_.'

"_Ca-a-ain!_" Gin whined, grabbing his arm and trying to pull it down.

"Give up! You can't bend my arm."

Gin let out a frustrated growl, catapulting herself onto his back when he started to step away.

'_Good God, give it back, Cain! Give it back,_ now!'

"What are you---?" he rasped out as her arms tightened around his neck to keep herself from slipping off. Wrapping her legs around his waist as she clung to him, Cain winced and dropped the notebook onto the sofa. She made no move to let go. Cain gulped, trying to ignore the scent of her, trying to ignore the warmth of her body pressed so close to his. "Gin?"

"What?"

". . . I put your sketchpad down."

"I know."

"You going to get off my back now?"

"Nope."

He frowned. "Why not?"

She sighed. "If I let go, I'll fall," she admitted quietly.

He sighed, too. Lowering himself slowly onto the sofa so Gin could get down without falling, a million curses ran through his head. Every single movement created more movement, and by the time he'd sat down completely, his body was cursing him back.

Gin crawled away, retrieving her sketchbook off the sofa. With a pained grimace, he quickly looked away as she scampered to her feet and ran down the hallway to stash her precious sketchpad away.

"I, uh, better go check in on Bellaniece," Cain said when Gin re-emerged from the bedroom.

Gin tried to mask the momentary look of panic that flashed in her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. "O-okay. I'll be fine. Thanks for . . . coming over . . ."

Cain flinched, her fear as real to him as it was to her. "I'll be right back," he assured her, lifting a hand to touch her then dropping it before he could.

"Oh, I'm fine," she lied, biting her lower lip so hard it turned white under her teeth.

"No, it's okay. Bellaniece is closer here than she ever was at home."

Gin shook her head.

He shrugged. "The mansion is pretty big."

"You're sure?"

He nodded, the need to break Gin out of her upset compelling him once more. "I, uh, err, um, well . . . yeah, I'm sure."

She looked startled, her eyes slowly narrowing suspiciously. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

Cain grinned just a little. "I, uh, err, um, well . . . sure am."

She giggled. "Okay, then . . . if you're sure."

Cain nodded and stood, striding over to the window and transforming into his energy form again. Out the window and over to his own, he solidified in his living room. Bellaniece's door was still closed, and when he peeked inside, he could tell she was sleeping.

'_Okay, I'd say that was kind of stupid_,' his youkai pointed out in a wary tone.

'_Yeah, yeah, it was_.'

'_It's probably advisable not to do that again_ . . .'

Cain nodded, stifling a groan. '_Yep_.'

'. . . _Unless she gets scared again, because we just can't let her do that, right?_'

'_Nope_.'

His youkai was quiet a moment. Cain hoped it was finished talking. No such luck.

'_Cain?_'

'_Huh?_'

' . . . _I really like that girl_ . . .'

Cain squeezed his eyes closed, deliberately trying not to think about the ramifications of what he was about to admit. '. . . _So do I_.'

* * *

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* * *

Gin held the throw pillow up to her face, cringing and groaning as the sounds of a particularly sickening death resounded in the quiet room.

"Put the pillow down and watch the movie," Cain remarked mildly.

"I don't want to," she mumbled, burying her face in the pillow again.

"You can't watch a scary movie but you can threaten to 'kick my butt?"

Giggling despite herself at the high pitched falsetto that he used for the last part of his question, Gin peeked at Cain over the top of the pillow. "They make it look really disgusting," she pointed out. "No one needs to see that."

His blue eyes glowed with a smile that he was feeling even though it didn't show. "Put the pillow down, Gin---it's fine."

She almost complied. Too bad another zombie on the movie decided to rip another hapless human in half---vertically. "Oh, no . . . _Eww . . .!_"

"Don't look at me," he complained as he settled back on the sofa. "You picked the movie."

"I didn't know it was going to be this gross," she shot back.

"Suck it up, baby girl. You're just trying to get me to feel sorry for you again."

She wrinkled her nose and opened her mouth to protest. The telephone trilled, and Gin rolled her eyes as she dug it out of the sofa cushions and clicked it on. "Hello?"

"Hi, Gin. Your father wanted me to call you to make sure you're still okay," Kagome said mildly.

"Yes, Mama, I'm fine," Gin answered, wincing again as another human bit the dust. Cain rolled his eyes. Gin shot him a narrow-eyed glare and rolled onto her knees, elbows propped on the arm of the sofa as she tapped her feet against the plush cushion. "How is everyone doing?"

Kagome sighed. "Same old stuff. Your father's been eyeing the door like he expects you to come in any minute, but he hasn't made a move to charge . . . yet."

"That bad?" Gin asked, gnawing on her lip as she tried to brush off the guilt that she really wasn't too sorry that she'd forgotten to go home in time. Cain shot to his feet and hurried toward the kitchen.

"Well, you know your father. He misses you, and he's worried about you."

"I miss him, too," Gin mumbled.

"InuYasha can come get you. He doesn't like to leave the house on the new moon, but---"

"Oh, I'm fine, Mama! He doesn't have to come over!" Gin hurried to say.

Kagome was silent a moment. "Really."

Gin winced.

'_Careful, doll . . . you might be able to fool your father or your brothers, but this is your mother, and she is far too perceptive for that._'

'_Point taken_.'

"Gin, you're sure you're all right?"

"Uh-huh," she said, careful to keep her tone as normal as she could. "I was just going to go to bed when you called. Might as well since, you know, I can't go anywhere, and since no one would come over. Why would someone do that?"

"Hmm," Kagome agreed when Gin forced a weak laugh. "I see . . ."

"Anyway . . ."

"Gin," Kagome interrupted, her voice dropping to nearly a whisper. "You know I trust you, right? You know I believe that you've learned the lessons your father and I have taught you. Just be careful; promise me."

Gin nodded. "I promise."

"There's a good girl. I'm going to try to force your father to bed. Come by in the morning to let him see that you're safe, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed.

Kagome made a kissing sound. "Night, Gin. Behave."

Gin rolled her eyes but grinned. "Night, Mama. Give Papa a kiss for me." She hung up the phone with a sigh and a giggle as Cain held a bottle of water in front of her face. "Thanks," she said as she took it.

"Yeah," he agreed. His tight, clipped tone was harsh.

Gin glanced up at him with a confused frown. "Cain? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he repeated, slumping back against the wall and glaring at the television with a deep scowl as he lifted his bottle of water to his lips.

Gin cocked her head to the side. "You don't _sound_ okay . . ."

"Just fine," he assured her.

"But . . . why are you standing up?"

"Tired of sitting."

"Are you angry?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

". . . O-okay."

"Gin?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you do me a favor without questioning it?"

Gin shrugged. "Okay."

"Sit down."

"Sit down?"

"Yeah, sit down."

"Why would you---"

"Without questioning it, remember?"

Gin snapped her mouth closed and sat back on her knees. "Now will you tell me why?"

Cain wrinkled his nose as he pushed away from the wall and hesitantly made his way over to the sofa. "Nope."

Gin shifted her legs to turn toward him as he sat down. "I thought you said you were tired of sitting."

He didn't answer.

She shook her head, shoulders slumping in defeat. "I thought you said you were okay."

He still didn't answer.

Her chin dropped against her chest as she stared at her hands. "I thought you said you weren't angry."

Cain sighed. "I'm not, Gin."

"You're sure?"

"You're missing the rest of the movie," he pointed out.

She made a face. "I don't like it, anyway."

He lifted his eyebrows as Gin yawned and wiped her eyes. "You should get some sleep. You told your mother you were going to bed."

Gin waved a hand dismissively. "I will . . ."

Cain stared at her for a moment before shaking his head once and holding out his hand. She blinked as she stared at it. He curled his fingers. "Come here, Gin."

"Cain?"

"Come here," he prodded.

Gin slowly slipped her hand into his. He pulled her toward him, settled her in the crook of his arm, against his chest. Gin sighed happily.

"Now go to sleep," he commanded gruffly but with a warmth that he couldn't hide.

"You'll stay till I'm asleep?"

A tender smile quirked the corners of his lips, lit the depths of his gaze with a certain softness. "Yeah," he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'll stay till you're asleep."

She smiled, letting her eyes drift closed as she nestled closer against him. "Okay."

She thought she heard him sigh, too.

* * *

****

**_A/N_**:

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Cain's Youkai_**:

_Oh, balls _…

**_

* * *

_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	17. Belle’s Date

**_Chapter 17_**

**_Belle's Date_**

* * *

Cain crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at the young man Bellaniece had introduced as Raidon just before she'd slipped off to finish getting ready for her date.

"Tell me, Raidon . . . just what do you think you're going to do with my daughter?" Cain demanded in an overly reasonable tone.

Raidon shifted from one foot to the other, hitching his shoulders and straightening the collar of his white dress shirt. "Dinner and a movie," he answered almost tentatively.

Cain nodded slowly. "And you'll have her home by eleven."

Raidon winced. "Well, the movie---"

Cain snorted. "Pfft. Eleven or you'll never see Bellaniece again."

"Eleven's fine, Zelig-san," Raidon agreed quickly.

Tapping his index finger against his lips, Cain regarded the young man for a moment before cracking his knuckles and adding, "And just so you know: if you try _anything_ with my daughter, I'll rip _it_ off."

He wasn't surprised to see the young man gulp, eyes wide, and when Bellaniece breezed around the corner from the hallway, Raidon didn't look at all relieved. Satisfied that he'd made his point quite clear, Cain pasted on a tepid smile and leaned down so that Bellaniece could kiss his cheek. "I'm ready . . . sorry to keep you waiting," she said to Raidon. "I'll be home early, Daddy!"

"You bet you will," Cain muttered as Bellaniece wiggled her fingers in parting before slipping out of the apartment. Raidon gulped again and bowed before scurrying off after Bellaniece.

'_Talk about a power play_,' Cain's youkai muttered.

'_Nothing wrong with ensuring that my daughter's safe on her insignificant little dates_.'

'_Insignificant? What if that was her future mate you just scared the shit out of?_'

'_If that was her future mate, he'd have had the balls to stand up to me, damn it_.'

'_Balls, Cain? Really . . . I think Bellaniece's slang is starting to wear off on you_.'

'_And just when has my daughter said, 'balls'?_'

'_You know what I mean_.'

Grimacing as he thought about Bellaniece's penchant for being way too blunt, Cain sighed. '_Too much like her mother_ . . .'

Striding toward the window to gaze down at the street below, Cain watched through narrowed eyes until Bellaniece and her date disappeared around the corner at the end of the block. Raidon kept a respectful distance from her, and Cain couldn't help the little smile.

'_I thought you wanted her to find a mate_.'

Cain wrinkled his nose, shook his head as he pulled a cigarette from the rumpled pack in his pocket and lit it. '_There's no rush_,' he countered. '_She's only seventeen . . . she just finished high school_.'

'_She's almost eighteen, and you're not doing yourself any favors by prolonging everything_.'

'_I'm not prolonging anything. I'm being realistic. Bellaniece hasn't met her mate yet. That's all_.'

'_This doesn't really have anything to do with Bellaniece, does it?_'

Cain drew a deep drag off his cigarette. '_I don't know what you mean_.'

'_Don't be stupid, Cain. This is about Gin, isn't it?_'

'_Not following_.'

'_Because you don't want to . . . Listen, I like her too, you know? I _really_ like her. I might like her a little too much_ . . .'

Cain shook his head, tapping his cigarette in the empty ashtray on the window sill. '_That's impossible. She's just a nice girl---a friend_.'

'_And this morning? What was she then?_'

Cain closed his eyes, willing himself not to remember, not to think about how it felt, to wake up on Gin's sofa with her cuddled around him, with her fingers twined in his hair . . . '_She was scared, remember?_'

'_Sure, she was scared. You got to be her hero, didn't you? You saved her from the ghosts and the monsters that only she can see, and only when she's human, right? The trouble is you've already said that you're going to keep your promise, so are you? Because Gin . . . she doesn't know about that, does she?_'

'_Of course she doesn't. She doesn't need to know. Gin and me . . . It's not serious. There's nothing more to it than . . . than_ . . .'

'_Than what, Cain? You don't know, do you? You . . . you do still want to keep your promise, right?_'

Cain winced, crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and turned away from the window. '_I've never wanted to keep that promise, but I _have _to. I owe her_.'

'_If that's the case, then do us both a favor and stay away from Gin Izayoi. She's . . . dangerous_.'

'_Gin's harmless_.'

'_Is she? Then tell me something . . . why couldn't you leave her last night, and why are you wearing that shirt she bought you?_'

_It was easier to tell himself that he couldn't leave her while she was so frightened, wasn't it? She'd relaxed in his arms, had acquiesced so easily as he held her close. She had the blind faith of a child, trusting him to make sure she was safe through the night, and he had done that for her---just for her. She hadn't even stirred when he'd moved her so that he could stretch out on the sofa, too. She sighed contentedly and tangled her fingers into his hair and had cuddled a little closer to him, her hand resting on his chest, over his heart_.

_He'd taken entirely too long, just staring at her. Her hair had spilled over him, the stark contrast between her black hair and her pale skin striking, remarkable. Her fragrance had lost some of the wilder, more untamed undertones, and the absolute sweetness of her was both terrifying and welcome. She called to him in the deepest part of her spirit; he could hear her, and he wanted to answer. He'd never encountered a woman like her before, and he knew he never would again_.

_Waking up in the middle of the night and finding himself still on Gin's sofa with her nestled as close as she could, he had tried to get up, to move her so that she wouldn't miss him. Whether it was the loss of warmth from his body or the subtle movement, she whimpered softly, her brow furrowing as she tightened her hand in his hair. Cain hadn't had the heart to wake her, and in the end, he'd fallen back to sleep, too_.

_He wasn't sure what woke him just before dawn. A cool breeze was filtering through the window, and Gin had nuzzled a little closer, seeking his body heat as she burrowed deeper against his side. The guilt of having stayed with her all night was tempered by the wonder of her as he watched the first rays of dawn filtering through the windows, hitting her skin; a sickly, pathetic attempt at a pale, watery gray light. The rising sun had been kind; creeping across her skin as the light changed from grayish to a warmer shade. He stroked her arm gently, buried his nose in her hair, inhaled the evolving scent of her, and when he slowly opened his eyes, he watched as the black hair faded, as wisps of silver infiltrated the darkness. For just a moment, her hair was both shades, and in the blink of an eye, the hanyou he knew best was lying in his arms where the timid human girl had been only seconds before_.

_Leaving her was the last thing that he wanted to do, but he also knew that Bellaniece would be waking up soon. Wincing as a guilty pang ripped through him, Cain sighed softly and sat up, lifting Gin in his arms without disturbing her sleep before he carried her back to her bedroom. She whined when he put her to bed. The cold sheets spurred a violent eruption of gooseflesh on her diminutive frame. He tucked the comforter under her chin and couldn't resist touching her hair again, the silky locks falling through his fingers like rain. She smiled dreamily as she snuggled deeper into her pillow, and Cain stared at her for another moment before he turned to go_.

"_Cain . . . shirt . . ." she murmured_.

_Cain saw the shirt draped over a chair. With a half-smile, he grabbed it, bringing it to his nose and inhaling the scent of her that had permeated the fabric. "Thanks, Gin_."

"_Hmm_."

_Bellaniece was still sleeping when he returned to his apartment. She probably hadn't missed him at all. Guilt that he'd forgotten about Bellaniece warred with the sense of melancholy that she really wasn't the little girl he used to tuck in at night. Cain stood in Bellaniece's doorway for several minutes, watching over his daughter as she slept before quietly pulling her door closed and heading for the bathroom_.

_The tepid water did little to dispel the conflicting thoughts that tumbled around his brain. He never should have gone over to Gin's apartment last night. There were a lot of things that he shouldn't have done. From the moment he'd met Gin, he'd known she was different. She could make him forget his resolve, could change his mind a hundred times with little more than a smile, could twist his emotions with a word or a touch. She was all the things he wasn't; she was everything he could never, ever have. If he could remember that last part whenever she was around, he'd be one step ahead of the game_ . . .

_He pulled the shirt on after his shower. He hadn't stopped to question it. Gin's scent was too prevalent, too comforting. Cain breathed deep and sighed_.

Gazing around the empty apartment, he slowly shook his head. His eyes lit on the statue he'd never finished, and he winced. It was a painful reminder: a bitter, hurtful thing. '_Isabelle_ . . .'

'_Isabelle never did that, did she? She never held you like that_ . . .'

Cain walked over to the sculpture, frowned as he ran a claw down the silhouette. '_No, she never did. She let me hold her, but _. . .'

'_But it isn't the same, is it? Isabelle never needed a hero, did she? Isabelle never . . . but Gin_ . . .'

'_Don't say it, okay?_'

His youkai sighed. '_Okay_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Go on; have fun! They'll be fine!" Kagome insisted as she propelled Sierra toward the door. Coral and Cassidy's laughter rang out from the living room as InuYasha followed them into the foyer with both girls hanging onto his back.

Sierra smiled at her daughters and shook her head. "Coral, Cass, be nice to Uncle Yasha, all right?"

Coral's tiny black puppy ears twitched as the nearly five year-old made a face. "Feh! Mama, I'm fine!"

"Yeah, fine!" three year-old Cassidy agreed.

InuYasha grinned at the girl's affectation of him. "Oi, you heard the pups."

Sierra rolled her eyes as Kichiro opened the door. "Come on, already. The movie will start whether we're there or not," he grouched but not unkindly.

"All right. Gin, are you sure you don't want to come along?" Sierra asked, leaning to the side to peek around InuYasha at the girl in question.

Gin wrinkled her nose and waved her hand dismissively as she pulled Cassidy off InuYasha's back. "No, thanks. I have to sketch a tree for class tomorrow, but thanks for asking."

Sierra nodded. "We'll be back soon."

Kichiro quickly kissed Kagome's cheek before following Sierra out of the house and closing the door. Ryomaru was in his car, revving the engine impatiently. "He's going to break it again," Sierra commented.

"Yeah . . . I think he does it on purpose nowadays," Kichiro agreed as he opened the car door for Sierra.

"I'd rather run," Ryomaru grumbled as Kichiro strode around the car to climb in.

"We can't," Nezumi pointed out reasonably. "Toga would flip if we didn't take the car."

"Well, Toga ain't here, is he?" Ryomaru shot back.

Sierra tucked a strand of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear and shrugged. "If Toga were here, I'd be in bed, not going to the movies. You'd think I was on death's door instead of just pregnant."

Kichiro grinned to himself since he knew that he was about to instigate a war. "Hmm, well . . . Ryomaru'll probably feel the same way when you're pregnant, Nez."

"Yet another reason not to have babies," Nezumi grumbled, her cheeks pinking as Kichiro tried not to laugh. She and Ryomaru been mated for five years, but Kichiro supposed some things would never change. Nezumi hadn't ever been comfortable discussing 'girly' things, and babies . . . Babies were very girly.

"Oi!" Ryomaru growled as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the tiny road that led to the city. "No one can be as bad as Toga . . ."

"So you wouldn't try to tell me that I couldn't do my normal stuff?" Nezumi asked.

"Well . . . balls, no! Like you'd listen to me, anyway . . ."

"You're proud of yourself, aren't you?" Sierra accused as Kichiro watched the escalating argument.

"Who? Me? No . . ."

She wrinkled her nose. "You are . . . Anyway, I guess this means you're my date for the evening."

Kichiro grinned. "Sure . . . does that mean I can put my arm around you?" he asked, snaking his hand along the top of the seat.

Sierra snorted and slapped his hand away but winked at him. "Just because Toga's out of town on business doesn't mean that I'm that kind of girl."

"Damn."

She laughed. Ryomaru and Nezumi kept arguing. Kichiro sat back and turned his attention out the window. '_This . . . might be fun, after all_ . . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle waited patiently while Raidon bought tickets for the movie and tried not to wonder how rude it would be if she suddenly came down with a headache. Dinner had been a dismal affair. Raidon---she'd at least hoped he'd be a little more interesting than watching paint dry on a wall---had blushed and stammered when she smiled at him once. She hadn't been too put off by that until he gave her a strange look when she ordered a big, juicy hamburger that hadn't tasted at all like the ones she was accustomed to in the United States. Then he'd walked so quickly that she had to hurry to keep up with him once they left the restaurant. He barely spoke to her at all, and when he did, it was stilted conversation. The entire date was a waste.

'_Yep, this guy . . . wow, Belle, he's just . . . ugh_.'

Belle frowned as she clasped her hands and absently studied the movie poster hanging in the waterproof display case. '_Yeah, he is_,' she agreed listlessly. There wasn't any real point of trying to convince herself otherwise. '_It wasn't at all like dinner with Dr. Izayoi. He was so smart, so articulated . . . at least until he turned nasty, that was_ . . .'

'_So you do like him_.'

Belle sighed. '_Of course not. I was simply stating the obvious. Kichiro Izayoi isn't the man for me. I'm not that sadistic_.'

'_Face it, Belle: the only thing you don't like about him is that he makes you second guess yourself. He makes you look at those parts of yourself that you don't want to see_.'

'_Maybe. Even then, there just isn't a middle ground with him, is there? Either he's entirely mean or he's way too charming_ . . .'

'_What is it you're looking for? You're not going to find a perfect man, you know_.'

Belle glanced over her shoulder. Raidon was still in line. She caught his eye and offered him a tentative smile. He reddened a little and quickly looked away. '_I don't want perfect. I'd be happy with someone who lets me be me_.'

'_And how will you find him when you're always hiding behind fronts? Belle, do you even know who you really are?_'

'_It's a moot point now_,' she insisted. '_I'm much too young to be mated. It's not that big a thing_.'

'_Oh, the little girl is back, isn't she?_'

"Isn't it past your curfew, Belle-chan?"

Belle gasped and stiffened as the unfriendly sneer snapped her out of her musings. She'd been so deep in thought that she hadn't sensed anyone's approach, least of all his. Slowly pivoting to face him, Belle carefully cleared her expression. Kichiro was glowering down at her like she was little more than dirt beneath his expensive shoes, and she smiled insincerely. "Ah, the ever-pleasant Dr. Izayoi. Fancy meeting you here."

Kichiro's grin was just as tight as hers. "So your father isn't wise enough to keep a leash on you at night?"

"I'm on a date," she replied, her gaze flicking coolly over the hanyou. Dressed as immaculately as ever, the only real difference was that he had his hair out of that God-awful braid he normally wore, and the effect, she had to admit, was remarkable. Lending him a dangerous air, the loose, thick strands lifted and flowed with the breeze. "I'll thank you not to criticize my father."

"So don't thank me," he countered. "You mean you found some baka willing to date you? Where is the poor fool?"

"It's really none of your business, is it?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Kichiro smiled insincerely. "Not in the least. Just thought I'd warn him about your tricks."

"Oi, Kich . . . Oh, it's the grabby wench. What the hell is she doing here?" Ryomaru snorted as he and Nezumi along with a third woman that Belle didn't know stopped behind Kichiro.

Belle stifled a sigh. "Do you own this theater?"

Kichiro snorted. "Of course not."

"Then is there a reason that I can't be here?"

"I don't care if you're here or not," Kichiro replied. "Why would it matter to me?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"It _don't_ matter," Ryomaru cut in. "Come on, Kich."

"Where's your manners, baka?" Nezumi cut in as she elbowed her mate in the ribs. "I'm Nezumi."

"Feh! Whatever. I'm going to get the tickets."

"Pleased to meet you," Belle answered with a nod as she turned her attention away from Kichiro and ignoring Ryomaru completely.

"And I'm Sierra," the second woman said with a friendly smile, "Kich's 'date' for the evening."

"Date?" Belle echoed, ignoring the flare of irritation inspired by the claim.

"Yep, my _date_," Kichiro added.

'_She smells vaguely familiar_,' Belle's youkai muttered. '_Not her, exactly, but like someone we've met before_ . . .'

'_Yes, she does, but I have no idea why_.'

"I'm Bellaniece."

"Oh, Kichiro's new secretary?"

Belle nodded. "That's me."

"Hmm . . . Is it true? Are Ryo's ears really softer than Kich's?"

Belle blinked in surprise, and she couldn't help but smile as she shifted her gaze back to Kichiro again. He was a little flushed though she couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or angry. Either would do, she figured. He deserved just a little comeuppance, didn't he? She didn't seek him out to start another round of their war. "Absolutely," Belle stated. "Much softer . . . like comparing silk and sandpaper."

Kichiro couldn't contain his indignant growl. Belle squelched her amusement as Sierra tried to grab his ear. "They're the same, little girl---the same!"

"To humans, maybe. I've told you, humans can't feel the difference," she pointed out in a sugary tone. "If you don't believe me . . ."

Sierra sighed. "I really want some fried chicken."

Belle shook her head. "Fried chicken?"

"Yes . . . I don't mind pregnancy as much as I mind the odd cravings . . ."

"Pregnant?" Belle repeated though it seemed obvious to her now. The woman was too slender for the slightly distended belly not to be the sign of pregnancy. Curse Kichiro Izayoi for not letting her realize that sooner. "You're dating a _pregnant_ woman?"

Kichiro shrugged but didn't answer. Nezumi rolled her eyes. "She's married to his cousin," she explained. "Kich's being an ass."

"You're married to Toga, right? That's why you smell familiar . . ."

Sierra looked surprised but smiled. "Yep, I'm Toga's wife . . . mate . . . keeper . . ."

Belle digested that for a moment before she smiled insincerely at Kichiro again. "That's so sad . . . you can't find a date of your own so you have to date your cousin's wife? No wonder you're always in such a bad mood."

"Toga's out of town," Kichiro snarled, "and Sierra wanted to see the movie. I'm _nice_ like that."

Belle's arched eyebrow left little doubt as to what she thought of his claim.

"You've met Toga before?" Sierra asked before Kichiro could muster more venom.

"No, but Daddy is friends with his parents. It's been a long time since we've seen them, though."

"Your father's friends with Sesshoumaru?" Nezumi questioned. "Wait . . . your father must be the North American tai-youkai. Ryo mentioned that he was coming here. Guess they were worried about security."

Kichiro snorted. "Yeah, that's enough small talk, isn't it? Are you sure you have a date, little girl? You wouldn't just be saying that so you don't look pathetic, are you?"

"Pathetic? Who's running around saying his cousin's wife is his date?" Belle countered sweetly.

"At least I _have_ a date," he shot back.

"Or maybe it isn't pathetic? Maybe . . ." Belle trailed off, eyes widening as she pointed at Kichiro's chest. "Of course! I get it now! Oh, it was so obvious, how could I have missed that?"

His gaze narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "What's that?"

"You're gay, aren't you?"

Nezumi laughed before smashing a hand to her mouth to stop it. Sierra choked and cleared her throat loudly. Kichiro looked like he was ready to lose what little control he had over his temper. Belle waited patiently for the tirade.

"Who said---I'm not---That's not---_I'm not gay!_"

"That would explain your wardrobe," Nezumi said reasonably despite the strain to keep her face from registering her amusement.

"That's true," Sierra agreed. "I mean, he has more clothes than most women . . . not to mention his always-perfect hair."

"Oi!" Kichiro growled. "I'm right here, and I repeat: I'm not gay."

"It's not healthy to live in denial, Dr. Izayoi," Belle added.

"Don't forget his fascination for musicals," Nezumi remarked.

"This explains so much!" Sierra marveled.

"It _does_ not, because I _am_ not!" Kichiro argued.

"Are you anti-gay?" Belle asked.

"No!"

"Then why are you so upset?"

He opened his mouth and snapped it closed a few times, unable to form words as he fought back the violent wash of color that infiltrated his skin. "Because, while I have nothing against gays, I am not one, got it?"

Belle shook her head slowly, clucking her tongue as she did it. "You know, Dr. Izayoi, you're a little too vehement in your denial."

"Belle---"

"Belle? Are you ready?"

Belle smiled as Raidon hesitantly approached with movie tickets in hand. "It was so nice meeting you," she assured the women. "Bye, Dr. Izayoi."

Kichiro growled as Belle grabbed Raidon's hand and led him into the theater. Her smile widened. She was sure he'd try to find a way to get her back for her statements. Then again, maybe he'd think twice before he sought her out to target with his nastiness.

'_That wasn't very nice, Belle_,' her youkai spoke up.

Belle scooted into an empty seat inside, adjusting her skirt. Raidon mumbled something about being right back and left. '_Well, Kichiro wasn't very nice, either. How much of his insulting behavior do you think I'll stand for?_'

'_You hit him right in the ego, you know_.'

'_Yes, well, that never stops him from doing the same thing to me, does it?_'

'_Belle . . . you're playing with fire_.'

'_Maybe. He is, too_.'

Her youkai sighed. '_All right. Don't say I didn't warn you_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Wow, Kich . . . she was something," Sierra commented as Kichiro growled at Belle's retreating form.

"Hmm, yeah . . . If I didn't know you better, I'd say she had some pretty valid points," Nezumi said slowly.

"That isn't funny," Kichiro snarled.

"Of course it isn't," Sierra said soothingly. "We all know you're a man-whore."

"Oi!"

"Don't worry, Kich . . . just because Ryo's ears are softer---" Nezumi began.

"The hell!" Kichiro grumbled, hot color flooding his features as he swung around and stomped away.

"Oh, no! You can't stand me up!" Sierra giggled.

"Feh!"

Nezumi laughed as the women watched the hanyou's angry retreat. "I can't say he didn't deserve that," Nezumi admitted.

"That's true . . . he was being rather obnoxious, wasn't he?" Sierra agreed.

"Yeah, he was . . . Weird."

Sierra's laughter died away as a calculating grin surfaced instead. "You know, Nez . . . Those two really hated each other, didn't they?"

Nezumi took a ticket from Ryomaru and shrugged. "Sure."

"Hmm . . ."

"What are you thinking?" Ryomaru demanded.

Sierra stared at her ticket for a few moments. "Well, you know what they say: it's a fine line between love and hate."

"Are you talking about that grabby wench?" Ryomaru grumbled. "Forget it. Kich can't stand her, or didn't you notice?"

"What I noticed was your brother who never, ever loses his cool, completely losing it over that girl."

Ryomaru made a face. "She called him _gay_ . . . Kich might overlook a lot of things, but . . ."

"And he called me a lesbian," Nezumi pointed out. "Kich'll get over it."

Ryomaru snorted. "Lesbian, my ass."

Sierra rolled her eyes. "All right, don't believe me, but I'm telling you, there's something there . . ."

Nezumi shrugged as Ryomaru yanked the door open and held it. "Yak about it later, okay? We're gonna miss the movie."

Sierra trailed after the couple as they entered the theater. Belle might have tweaked Kichiro's pride, but she hadn't been mistaken. Kichiro's reaction to Belle's date hadn't been disguised at all. '_Interesting . . . very interesting . . . Kich is . . . jealous_ . . .'

* * *

****

**_A/N_**:

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_I am NOT gay _…

**_

* * *

_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	18. Business as Usual

**_Chapter 18_**

**_Business as Usual

* * *

_**

Kichiro unlocked the door and stepped into the dimly lit office, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that told him just how petty and ridiculous he was being.

'_She started it_.'

'_Oh, for kami's sake, Kich . . . You do hear yourself, right? Do you know how stupid you sound?_'

Kichiro drew the blinds open and stared out the window for a few seconds before turning on the overhead light and stomping back toward his office. '_She did, or weren't you there?_'

'_Yeah, yeah, I was there. Thought you said you don't care what Belle thinks_.'

'. . . _I don't_.'

'_Uh-huh_.'

'_Oh, shut the hell up_.'

'_Now that's mature_.'

'_I'm past caring, you know. She started it. She _always_ starts it_---'

'_Except when you do_.'

'_I do not!_'

'_No? Then you didn't blow an ass gasket and leave her sitting in the middle of a restaurant alone? So you didn't make her walk home at night by herself? Oh, yeah, and you sure as hell didn't seek her out at the movie theater last night just to get all bent because she wasn't jumping for joy to see you? Baka_.'

'_Whose youkai are you? Mine or hers?_'

'_Yours for the moment though I did ask for a change of host since you're an idiot_.'

'_Hmm, well until that transfer comes through for you, do me a favor and shut up, okay? Save me the trouble of hearing your inane babble_.'

'. . . _Sierra was your date . . . you know, Kich . . . can I ask you something?_'

'. . . _It depends_.'

'. . . Are _we gay?_'

Kichiro's growling filled the empty office with a menacing air. Pondering how hard it would be, to filter the youkai blood out of his system, he refused to answer that particular question as he flopped into his desk chair and pulled the manila file toward him.

According to the records, it had been nearly nine months since Kelly Hendricks' accident. The latest lab reports and the skin analysis showed that she was almost ready for the first of the reconstructive surgeries. If everything continued to progress, she'd be ready in less than a month, which would mean that Kichiro would need to head over to the United States in a couple weeks. He'd already applied for the necessary work visa as well as the interim permit that would allow him to practice medicine in the States. As soon as those came through, he was good to go . . .

'_Good . . . at least I'll get away from her, even though I have a sneaking suspicion that an ocean isn't nearly enough space for my comfort_.'

'_You know, Kich, there's something you've probably not considered._'

'_You, again? Thought I told you to shut up_.'

'_Yeah, you did. Anyway, have you thought about the fact that Kelly is Belle's best friend?_'

Kichiro snorted. '_Well, yeah, that was sort of obvious_.'

'_Was it? So you also realized that there's a damn good chance she'll want to be there for her friend's surgery_.'

No, he hadn't really considered that even though he probably should have. It hadn't occurred to him at all, in fact, and that his youkai was so obviously willing to point this out to him . . .

Kichiro dropped his forehead into his hand and closed his eyes. 'There's no way in hell she's going with me,' he stated. '_I'd rather be dead . . . Her father wouldn't let her go with me, anyway. No father in his right mind would_.'

'_He would if he thinks you're gay---a very real possibility if Belle tells her father about your confrontation last night_.'

'_For the last fucking time, I'm not fucking gay, and if you say that again, I swear to kami, I'll hook us up to an IV and turn myself human---see if I don't_ . . .'

'_As if you could! Balls, Kich, you're really touchy today_ . . .'

'_You think?_'

'_Yeah . . . you need to get laid_.'

Kichiro just groaned at that simplistic reply and shoved himself away from the desk as he shot to his feet and strode out of his office.

Belle breezed through the door with a scowl on her face and sunglasses covering her eyes. She pulled them off and spared Kichiro a glance that seemed to miss him completely, scanning the waiting room with a discerning eye before she strolled over to her desk, tossed her sunglasses down, and stowed her purse on the floor before smoothing the skirt of her light yellow dress.

'_Oh, hell, no . . . she's not going to ignore me, not after her line of shit last night_,' he fumed as he summoned the brightest smile he could manage. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he casually strolled over to her and sat on the corner of her desk. "Morning, Belle-chan. How was your date?"

"It was fine," she replied, her smile rivaling his in falseness. "Perfect . . . couldn't have asked for a nicer date."

"Well, great," he assured her. "Just wonderful. I'm glad to hear it."

"Are you? Good . . . I'm sorry your . . . _date_ . . . ended so abruptly."

"What, that? It was fine, just fine. Sierra had a good time, and I . . . well, I found something to do."

She almost smiled. "Oh? Interesting . . ."

The door rattled as Mai hurried in. The older woman stopped short, stared from Kichiro to Belle and back again. "Good morning, Mai," Kichiro greeted with a bright smile.

The secretary's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're here early today, Izayoi-sensei . . . and you're . . . _happy_."

Belle snorted. "Isn't he? It's so _nice_, isn't it? So happy and pleasant . . . makes me so _glad_ I came to work today!"

"Ah, always a ray of sunshine, aren't you, Belle-chan?"

"Well, I do try."

"Oh, absolutely," Kichiro agreed.

"Are you sure everything is all right?" Mai asked, shaking her head in confusion at the odd behavior coming at her from both Belle and Kichiro.

"Couldn't be better," Kichiro assured her.

"Nothing wrong at all," Belle granted.

"That's right. Now if you ladies will excuse me, I've got to get ready for my first appointment."

Kichiro stood up and headed out of the reception area.

'_Balls, Kich . . . all that niceness was enough to choke me_.'

'_Tell me about it._'

'_You know, Belle looks damn fine this morning_.'

'_Does she?_'

'_Don't tell me you didn't notice_.'

Kich snorted as he grabbed the first file in the holder on his desk and sank down. '_All right, then . . . I won't tell you I didn't notice_.'

'_So you did notice!_'

'_No . . . I just said I wouldn't tell you that I didn't . . . but I didn't_.'

'_Lying to others is one thing; lying to yourself? That's just bad_.'

'_Yeah? Well, I don't remember asking your opinion_.'

'_Let's face it, shall we? You just don't like that Belle is just as good at your game of belittling as you are . . . Bad enough when she was picking at our ears---which are just as soft as Ryo's . . . probably . . . but_---'

'_What do you mean, 'probably'? We're twins---_identical_ twins---remember?_'

'_Sure, but his could be softer_ . . .'

Kichiro grumbled as he dropped the file onto his desk and grabbed a pen. '_Do me a favor, will you? Shut the hell up already! Softer ears, my_---'

'_Okay, Kich, you win for now. I'll keep my opinions to myself if you'll admit one thing_.'

'_What?_'

'_Admit that you can't stand the idea that Belle's dating that weak little human_.'

Kichiro snorted. '_Feh. I don't care who she dates or what she does. She's not my concern_.'

'_Maybe not, but somewhere deep inside, you wish she was_.'

'_About as much as I wish I was_ . . .' Kichiro trailed off, tossing the pen onto his desk as he heaved a disgusted sigh.

'_Go on, say it . . . You were going to say 'gay', weren't you?_'

'_No!_'

His youkai chuckled but finally left him alone.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin flicked her ears as she concentrated on the sketch of the day's model. The girl looked bored, which was funny since she was nude and sitting in the middle of a room of art students. 

Tapping the end of her pencil against the sketchpad in front of her, Gin frowned at her drawing as she made a face at the image. '_Something's off . . . the proportions are wrong_.'

With a sigh, she erased the girl's torso---the part that had been giving her the most trouble---before setting to work again. Lifting her chin as she studied the model, Gin tilted her head to the side.

'_That sketch isn't that bad, Gin. You're being too critical. Cain doesn't expect it to be perfect, otherwise this wouldn't be a class . . . get it?_'

Gin grimaced. '_Of course not, but there's nothing wrong with trying a little harder_.'

'_You know, I was thinking . . . Did it seem to you that your mother wanted to ask you something when you were over there yesterday?_'

'_I thought so, too_ . . .'

That was true. Kagome had looked at Gin, stared at her as though there were something that she wanted to ask but didn't know how. She hadn't asked a thing, but Gin had sensed her unasked questions.

'_Speaking of yesterday, that was nice_.'

'_What was?_' Gin asked. She had a feeling she knew what her youkai was talking about, but . . .

'_You know what: waking up with Cain there_.'

Gin blushed as a little grin surfaced on her face, as her stomach turned over in a delightful tremor. She hadn't been awake enough to say much and had struggled to remind him to take his shirt, but it had occurred to her that he had stayed with her all night. He'd made sure that she was protected. He kept her irrational fears of being human at bay. It was a strange thing, really. Even in her father's house, even surrounded by her father and brothers and mother, she'd never been able to sleep on such nights, but having Cain there . . .

'_I can't remember having slept so well_,' she confessed.

'_Me, either_.'

'_It was nice_.'

'_Yeah, it was . . . really, _really_ nice_.'

She couldn't go back to sleep after he left, so she got up and showered and was just drinking a cup of tea when the loud knock announced her parents' arrivals. InuYasha had stomped in and looked around slowly, as if he expected someone to jump out of the shadows inside the apartment.

"_Morning, Papa! Morning, Mama! Would you like some tea?_"

_InuYasha strode deliberately toward the sofa. "Tell me why I smell that bastard here_."

_Gin grimaced as Kagome pulled a mug out of the cupboard. "What bas---?_"

"_Don't give me that, baby girl! That _teacher_ of yours_."

"_Do you smell him? I hadn't noticed_ . . ."

_InuYasha slowly turned his head to stare at his daughter before stomping over to her and sniffing. Gin tried not to wince. "Papa?_"

_He glowered at her another moment or two then nodded once. "Well, _you_ don't smell like him . . . are you sure you were alone last night?_"

_Gin nearly choked on her tea but managed to swallow without incident. "Yeah . . . Umm . . . Cain lives in this building, so maybe you're just---?_"

"_He_ what?"

"_He . . . lives . . . in this building_ . . ."

"_Pack your stuff, Gin . . . You're coming home right fucking now_."

"_InuYasha, calm down," Kagome broke in. "Gin's not stupid, and obviously she's just fine. You trust her, don't you? After all, you can't control who lives here, and he_ is _her teacher_."

"_It ain't her I don't trust," InuYasha growled, "it's him . . . Maybe I should hunt him down and give him a nice, friendly warning_."

_Kagome grimaced. "You'll do no such thing. It stands to reason that he's probably come over to visit. He's new to Tokyo and probably doesn't know many people around here . . . I'm sure that's all there is to it, right, Gin?_"

"_Uh, yeah," Gin agreed weakly_.

_InuYasha snorted and strode toward the hallway---toward Gin's bedroom. Gin grimaced. At least she'd left the windows open, and she could only be thankful for the fresh morning breeze that had hopefully dispelled any lingering scent of Cain in that room_ . . .

"_So you call your teacher by his first name?" Kagome asked casually_.

"_Sure . . . I mean, yeah . . . shouldn't I?_"

_Kagome didn't answer. She finished her tea and rinsed the cup as InuYasha stomped back into the room with a slightly mollified if not still irritated look on his face_.

_At least he hadn't insisted she move back home again. Gin sighed. She wasn't ashamed of her friendship with Cain. She just wished her father would understand_ . . .

"Having trouble, Miss Izayoi?"

Gin gasped and jumped, whipping her head to the side to stare up at Cain. She'd been concentrating hard enough that she hadn't heard him approach.

He was leaning on the back of her stool, a lazy smile twitching the corners of his lips as his clear blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "Uh . . . err . . . I . . . um . . . n-not really," she stammered, blushing as her stomach erupted in a million little flutters.

"You sure?" he asked, quirking a light brown eyebrow in question.

"Yes," she answered, dragging her gaze away. "You know, I've noticed something."

"What's that?"

She swallowed hard as she forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand again. "Females have prettier bodies, don't you think?"

"Prettier . . .?" Cain choked out.

Gin was too busy contemplating the model to notice his discomfort. "Well, you know . . . females are curvy and sort of soft, not all . . . _hard_ with . . . _stuff_ . . . sticking out."

"Sticking out?" he echoed. "Gin---"

"Okay, not just sticking out, but you have to admit, it does sort of just . . . hang there . . . not really aesthetically pleasing, wouldn't you say?"

"Does it really have to be aesthetically pleasing? Think function, all right?" he grumbled.

"It could have still been a little prettier and still function. Maybe it should have been inside the body and only pop out when necessary . . . like an antenna . . ."

"Gin," he said, grasping her shoulder so that she'd stop talking. "Let me see your sketch."

"Uh, no," she insisted as she smashed the sketchpad against her chest.

He waved his hand and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Gin, while I'm here, let me see it."

Gin shook her head and winced. "You know, you can do me later."

Cain froze for a moment before jerking back as the art students erupted in twitters and giggles.

Gin frowned as she glanced around before she looked up at Cain again. "Was it something I said?"

"I'll . . . you . . . okay," he mumbled before striding to the next student as the laughter escalated.

Gin bit her lip and shrugged. '_What was that all about?_'

'_I'm not sure . . . We could ask Cain later_.'

Turning her attention back to her sketchpad again, she sighed. '_Yeah, all right. Why was he blushing?_'

'_Who knows? You know, doll . . . I think . . . I think he likes us_.'

Gin made a face as she worked on sketching the model's shoulders. '_Well, of course he likes us. He's our friend._'

'_I wonder_ . . .'

'_Hmm?_'

'_Oh, nothing . . . Nothing at all _. . .'

Focusing her concentration on the sketch, Gin didn't pay attention to her youkai's words.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle poked her head into Kichiro's office and cleared her throat to draw his attention. "Sorry to bother you," she said in a smooth, even tone, "but your mother's on line three . . . and you weren't answering your phone." 

Kichiro waved a hand without looking up from the file he held on his lap. Legs kicked up, ankles crossed, he didn't acknowledge her as he flipped over a page and kept reading. Even in his relaxed state, there was a very real air of strength about him, and not for the first time Belle had to wonder just how strong Kichiro really was.

"Dr. Izayoi? Would you like me to take a message for you?"

"Of course not," he scoffed as he leaned over to grab the phone without taking his eyes off the paper. "Didn't you say it is my mother?"

Belle pursed her lips but didn't snap back. Kichiro picked up the receiver and hit the button to connect before bringing the phone up to his head. "Izayoi."

Slipping into the office and leaning against the door, Belle crossed her arms over her chest since she still needed to tell him that his last appointment of the day had just called to reschedule before she headed back to her desk in the lobby.

"Of course I remember," he said as he broke into a little smile that Belle hadn't seen before. The gentleness of his tone coupled with the almost bashful quality of that smile was devastating to her, and he wasn't even directing it at her. If he ever did that to her . . . Belle shook her head and wrinkled her nose at her flighty thoughts as Kichiro continued to speak. "Sure, I can do that . . . Don't worry about it, Mama . . . Yes, I'm sure."

'_Mama?_' Belle echoed as her eyes widened. '_He calls his mother, 'Mama'?_'

'_I think that's rather cute_,' her youkai piped up.

'_I think it's rather . . . childish_,' Belle shot back with an inward snort. '_And he has the nerve to call me 'little girl'? Oh, just wait till he's off that telephone_ . . .'

'_You can't do that, you know_.'

'_Why not?_'

'_Because you said you were going to kill him with kindness, remember? Business only, Belle. Your rules, remember?_'

'_Oh, right. That bites. If the situation were reversed, he'd rub my nose in it. I'll just have to remember it for later_.'

'_You're really asking for trouble_.'

'_I'm not scared of him_.'

'_Maybe you should be_.'

'_I don't think so_.'

'_You know that phrase, 'playing with fire'?_'

Belle wrinkled her nose. '_Yeah_.'

'_Well, that's what you're doing. Kichiro Izayoi . . . He could chew you up and spit you out_.'

'_He's not so tough. He's a . . . a jerk. He's been nothing but a jerk to me_.'

'_He might be a jerk, Belle, but he's a sexy as hell jerk . . . and those types are the most dangerous_.'

Belle sighed. '_I know_.'

Kichiro dropped the phone receiver back into the cradle and turned his attention back to the case file. Pushing his glasses up his nose before jotting a few notes in the margin of the document, he propped his elbow on the desk and braced his face with an index finger against his temple and his thumb perched under his chin with the remaining fingers curled against his lips. Ears twitching as he kept reading, Belle had to restrain the desire to march right over there and latch onto his ears. "Is there something else you wanted, little girl?" he asked without looking up.

Belle snorted inwardly, snapping herself out of her bemusement as she unfolded her arms and straightened her back. "Your last appointment of the day cancelled."

"Oh? I suppose you and Mai can go home."

"Good evening, then," she agreed in a pleasant enough tone.

"Belle-chan," he called after her as she turned to go.

"Yes?" she asked, pausing with her hand on the handle.

"Next time you might want to wipe the drool off your chin."

Belle swung around to meet his challenge and stopped short at the entirely too amused glint that lit the depths of his golden gaze. "Excuse me?"

Kichiro chuckled nastily. "You don't think I didn't notice you ogling me, did you?"

Snapping her mouth closed as indignant color washed into her cheeks, Belle didn't trust herself to speak as she jerked the door open and stalked out of the office with Kichiro's laughter trailing in her wake.

'_I told you not to be so obvious about it_,' her youkai chided.

'_I wasn't ogling him! I do _not_ ogle!_'

'_Oh, sure you do . . . at least you have good taste_.'

'_That isn't even funny_,' she huffed as she flopped down in her chair, drawing a suspect glance from Mai, '_and even if I was ogling, his personality completely undermines the entire effect._'

'_Who says you have to like his personality to appreciate the fact that he has a damn fine body?_'

'_I do_.'

'_Yeah, you do, and that's the problem, isn't it?_'

Belle sighed. '_Yeah, it is_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain refused to go anywhere near Gin for the rest of the class. The one time he started over that way, the students had started giggling all over again, and Cain thought better of it since Gin really didn't have a clue, just what she'd said that started the laughter, in the first place. 

'_No doubt about it, Cain: you've got to talk to her. You've got to explain to her that sometimes she says things_ . . .'

'_It's not my place to tell her anything of the sort_.'

'_If not yours, then whose?_'

'_Her father's, maybe?_'

'_Obviously her beloved papa hasn't seen fit to say anything about it. She'll get herself into more trouble with her innocent words than it's worth . . . Gotta say, I still don't like him. You know, we really could take him, if we wanted to _. . .'

'_I'm not fighting Gin's father_.'

'_And why not? You don't seriously think he could beat us, do you?_'

'_Pfft! Don't be absurd_.'

'_Anyway, you've got to say something to her. Just . . . be nice_.'

'_Nice . . . right_ . . .'

Cain leaned against his desk as the students filed out of the classroom. Gin lingered as she stowed her sketchbook in her bag and carefully put the pencils away. Leaving the bag on her desk, she slowly wandered toward him, the fullness of her pink skirt swaying with her movements. Cain forced his eyes up to her face, and grimaced at the pensive look in her expression.

She stopped in front of the first desk and hopped up onto it, crossing her ankles as she swung her feet. "Did I say something strange?" she finally asked, twisting her fingers together in a decidedly nervous fashion.

Cain hesitated before answering, unsure how to explain it to her without embarrassing her. "Not strange," he finally said, measuring his words carefully. "Just . . ." he sighed, lifting his hand and letting it drop as he struggled to find a way to explain things to her. "Sometimes when you say things, you don't really realize how they sound."

She blinked quickly as she shook her head. "And that's why everyone was laughing?"

"Uh . . . yeah."

"But I didn't. All I said was that you could do . . . me . . . No-o-o-o . . ." she trailed off, fingers shooting up to fold together over her mouth as her eyes widened in shock. "Kami, that's not . . . I didn't . . ."

"I know you didn't mean it that way," he assured her, wincing as her cheeks darkened painfully, as her ears drooped and her chin fell. "Gin . . ."

"Oh, that's really embarrassing," she muttered, smashing her ears down flat against her head. "Do I . . . do I say stuff like that . . . a lot?"

Cain sighed as he covered his eyes with his hand. "Yeah . . . yeah, you do."

"I'm sorry . . . I don't mean to . . . I . . . oh, I . . . I'm stupid."

His hand dropped as he shook his head vehemently. "You're not stupid. Don't say that. Don't even _think_ it. You're . . . you're . . ."

Cain closed his eyes for a moment, turned his head to the side. Gin was staring at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence. He just . . . He couldn't.

'_Say it, Cain . . . just say it! You know what you're thinking; _I_ know what you're thinking. Just say it. She deserves to hear it, doesn't she?_'

"You're . . . special."

His youkai sighed. Cain ignored the truth that ate at him. '_Coward. Special? That's not what you wanted to say. You wanted to say that she's_---"

'_Shut up_.'

'---_Beautiful_.'

He winced inwardly. Why was it that he could deal with being tai-youkai, he could create sculptures and paintings and not give a second thought to letting the pieces go, didn't care about critiques or public opinion, but when faced with the idea of saying one little word to the girl staring at him, he just couldn't do it?

"I'm special?" Gin repeated quietly as her face brightened with reluctant optimism. "I am?"

Cain tried to smile, but he just couldn't do it. "Yeah, you are."

Gin bit her lip, shrugging as she blushed all over again, but this time her ears remained straight, and she grinned. "Maybe you can tell me whenever I do that," she suggested. "Then I'll know what not to say."

Cain finally smiled, too. "You think you'll figure out how to tell for yourself?"

"I'll try." She slid off the desk and started gathering pencils and supplies that the other students had left behind. "Have I told you lately how glad I am you decided to stay here?"

"Are you?" he asked with a smile.

She nodded. "Uh-huh!" Pausing in her work, she frowned suddenly and shot him a quick glance. "Cain? Can I ask a favor of you?"

"Okay," Cain agreed as he tilted a sketch to critique it.

She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders as Cain glanced up from the sketch. "I wondered . . . I mean, would you teach me?"

He blinked in confusion. "Isn't that what I'm doing now?"

Gin shook her head and stuffed the pencils into a plastic bin before dusting off her hands and hurrying back toward him. "Yeah, sure, but that's not what I meant. I want you to teach me; really teach me."

"Teach you what?" he asked, intrigued by her request despite the voice in his head that told him that it might not be a good idea.

"Oh, everything! You . . . you're almost three hundred years old, right? You can teach me a lot, you know? About painting and sculpting, and . . . just everything! Please?"

Cain rubbed his eyes, stalling for time as he tried to figure out how to answer Gin's enthusiastic question. "Why me?"

"Why not you? I mean, you like me, right? And I like you, so . . . will you be my---what's the English word? Oh yes . . . will you be my master?"

'_Dear God, she's done it again_,' his youkai moaned.

'_Shut up, will you? She didn't mean . . . Just shut up!_'

'_Are you considering it, Cain? You realize, right? Gin Izayoi is a walking, talking accident just waiting to happen. The girl needs to be surrounded by flashing yellow caution lights!_'

Cain snorted and opened his mouth to say 'no'. She smiled, clasping her hands in front of her as she held her breath, waiting for his answer. Cain sighed. "All right, Gin . . . just . . . don't call me 'master', all right?"

She squealed and clapped her hands moments before she threw herself against him in a quick hug. Cain winced at the pitch of the noise as well as the momentary contact. Gin let go and stepped back, twirling around as she laughed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'll work really hard, and I promise I'll do whatever you say! Thank you, Cain! You won't be sorry!"

Cain slowly shook his head. He was already sorry. Teaching Gin everything he knew? He wasn't going to walk away from this unscathed, he just knew it.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_Thanks to DawnFire881 for the inspiration for the Gin moment … LOL_!

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_Stick a fork in me; I'm done _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	19. Big Girls Don’t Cry

**_Chapter 19_**

**_Big Girls Don't Cry

* * *

_**

Cain knocked on Gin's apartment door and stepped back to wait.

She opened it and greeted him with a wide smile before jerking her head to invite him in, as she headed back to the basket of laundry sitting on the small dining table.

Closing the door, he followed her inside and slipped her cake platter on the counter. "Laundry day?"

Gin shrugged. "Sure . . . not very exciting, but what can you do? Seems kind of sad, doesn't it? Friday night, and I'm home folding clothes."

"It isn't that sad," he assured her as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "I've spent my fair share of Friday nights doing stuff like that . . . Anyway I bought your plate back."

"I'll start your cake in a little bit."

He didn't argue with her since he never won, anyway. "You . . . uh . . . want to get something to eat?"

Gin smiled. "Okay! Just let me finish folding this stuff or I'll leave it set until I forget whether it's clean or not." She shook out a little pair of white cotton bikini cut panties sprigged with tiny blue flowers, and Cain coughed quickly to cover his amusement. Gin glanced at him, eyes narrowing as she slowly shook her head. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing . . . just that those---" he gestured at the panties in her hand, "---remind me of the panties I used to buy for Bellaniece . . ."

"You used to buy her panties?"

Cain rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah, when she was, like . . . ten. Do those have the days of the week printed on the back?"

Gin wrinkled her nose and turned the panties, examining them like she hadn't bothered to check for herself before. "No."

He coughed again. "You sure?"

She snorted. "I think I'd know if my panties had days of the week printed on the . . . heinie."

Cain choked. "Heinie?"

She blushed. "Yes, heinie."

How he managed not to laugh was completely beyond him, but considering how irritated Gin looked, he wasn't about to press his luck. Searching wildly for something---_anything_---to divert his attention away from Gin's use of the word 'heinie', Cain's gaze fell on the nasty looking weapon lying on the table that seemed sorely out of place amongst the soft laundry that was neatly stacked around it. The shining blade of the scythe gleamed in the yellow light of the fluorescent bulb overhead, and the ivory handle was polished and bright. Hooked to the end of the six inch handle was a long, thick chain, and mounted to the other end of the chain was a mean-looking lead ball that would easily fit into one of Gin's hands. "What is that?" he asked, nodding at the weapon.

Gin glanced at him before following his gaze. "Oh, this?" she questioned, lifting the weapon and carelessly swinging the scythe by the chain. "It's my Kusarigama."

Cain frowned and caught the handle, shooting Gin a look that told her just what he thought of her playing with such a dangerous 'toy'. "Stop that before you hurt yourself," he scolded.

She rolled her eyes and held out her hand for the deadly-looking weapon. Cain grudgingly handed it over. "Hurt myself? With this? Oh, please!"

"You're not really going to try to tell me that you know how to use that, are you?"

She giggled. "Of course I do! Why else would I have it? It's really strong. It was forged from Papa and Uncle Sesshoumaru's fangs. It was one of the first weapons Master Bunza made. My brothers' weapons were forged by Master Totosai, but he died before he could forge mine, and Master Bunza and Papa go way back . . ."

"Totosai . . . I met him once. He repaired my sword once . . . reinforced it, but only after pointing out that the Efu Tachi design was more flash than might." He shrugged. "I was showing off, anyway. I rarely used the damn thing . . ."

"You can fight?" she asked dubiously then waved her hand at his raised-eyebrow look. "Well, I mean, I figured you could, but . . . you have a sword?"

"Of course . . . It's back in Maine, though."

Gin sighed as she looped the chain around her hand and elbow. "I wanted to learn how to use a sword. Papa showed me a little. He said swords were too big for me." She made a face. "I think he just didn't want to teach me how to use it."

Cain snorted. "You're really trying to convince me you know how to use that insignificant toy?"

Gin scowled and shook her head. "It's not a toy! I could . . . I could kick your . . . heinie with it."

Coughing furiously once more to cover his amusement, Cain made a face and crossed his arms over his chest. "Right, baby girl. Sure you can."

Eyes flaring wide in indignation before narrowing in what Cain recognized to be acute irritation, Gin quickly flipped the ball toward him. He reached out to grab it, only to find the chain wrapped securely around his forearm. Gin smiled grimly and tugged. "If that had been the sharp end, you'd be missing an arm---or part of one." With another jerking motion, the chain unwrapped as the iron ball whipped neatly back into her hand.

"Hmm, then I stand corrected," he agreed.

"Are you humoring me?" she demanded.

"God, no! Would I really do such a thing?"

"I don't know . . . I think you are," she accused.

Cain grinned. "Of course not! I absolutely believe you could kick my . . . heinie . . . with _that_ . . ."

Gin sighed and slowly shook her head, ears flattening as she rewrapped the chain and laid the weapon on the table. "I thought you were different, but you're just like them."

Cain frowned at Gin's sudden mood swing and he shoved his hands into his pockets again. "What do you mean?"

The tiny hanyou ears flattened, her shoulders slumped in obvious defeat, and she wouldn't look at him as she folded the rest of her laundry. "You're just like Papa and my brothers. You're just like Uncle Sesshoumaru and Toga, too. You all think I'm still just a little girl; that I don't think, and I can't protect myself . . . It's not true, you know. It's not true, at all."

Cain winced and stepped toward her but stopped when she retreated. "Gin, I don't---"

"You do. You followed me on my date, remember? You scoffed at my weapon . . . you made fun of my panties . . . you think I'm just a pup, right? I'll have you know I'm not. I'm . . . I'm a _big_ girl!"

Before he could think about whether or not he was about to make her even angrier, Cain barked out a terse chuckle. He wasn't sure why Gin's claim of being a 'big girl' caught him so far off guard, but it did, and before he could think about the ramifications of showing his amusement, he laughed.

Gin's expression clouded over, eyes igniting in unmasked outrage. "I think you should leave now," she said in a clipped, tight little voice.

"I'm sorry," he said between chuckles. "Really, I am . . . You're absolutely a---" he snorted as he tried to repress a chortle, "---big girl---" It didn't work, and he laughed even harder despite the mounting anger apparent on Gin's face.

Gin stomped toward him, placing her hands in the center of his chest, and pushed him back. The angrier she got, the harder he laughed, and in the end, she growled as she jerked open the door and shoved him out into the hallway. "Good night, Cain," she said brusquely, "and goodbye."

He finally managed to get his laughter under control as he stared at the closed door in mild shock.

'_Nice, dog . . . she's really mad at you_.'

Cain sighed but chuckled as he raised his fist to knock. '_Oh, shut up . . . it was . . . _cute.'

'_Cute, nothing! You did exactly what she accused you of doing. Now instead of finding a reason to spend time with her, we're stuck alone with what? A TV dinner? Ugh_.'

Cain let his hand drop as he slowly shook his head and sighed as he trudged over to his apartment. '_Yeah, yeah . . . rub it in. I couldn't help it . . . she said 'heinie', for God's sake!_'

'_But you did scoff at her when she said she knew how to use that weapon of hers_ . . .'

'_Okay_,' Cain agreed as he flopped down on the sofa. '_That might have been a little stupid_.'

'_You're a moron, Cain; a complete and utter moron. Sometimes I swear I hate being your youkai_.'

Cain sighed, wondering just how long Gin could carry a grudge as he glanced over at the refrigerator. '_No TV dinner . . . I didn't buy any_,' he thought with a wry grimace. '_You think she'll still make me a cake?_'

His youkai snorted but didn't answer.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle slipped out of the apartment and closed the door before dropping the keys into her purse and slipping on her sunglasses. When she'd asked Cain if she could go shopping, he had barely grunted in reply without looking up from the newspaper. She'd wisely kept her own council on the conspicuous lack of cake, but after the abysmal date she'd gone on the night before, she had to wonder if she really had had a worse time than her father, after all. Her curiosity was nearly killing her, but she couldn't bring herself to ask questions. Her father looked irritated enough, and she could tell from the dark circles under his eyes that he hadn't slept well, if at all. 

'_Maybe I should stop and see if something happened between Gin and him_ . . .'

'_Why do you figure it has anything to do with Gin?_'

Belle made a face. '_No cake, remember? Gin always makes a cake for Daddy, but she didn't last night . . . No, something definitely happened_ . . .'

'_Don't you dare_,' her youkai warned. '_Your father would kill you. Best you stay out of it, don't you think?_'

Belle sighed and started down the hallway toward the stairwell at the other end. '_Okay, I will. Maybe Daddy will talk about it when I get back_ . . .'

She was almost past Gin's door when the rattle of a chain and the 'snick' of the turning deadbolt stopped her. Belle slowly pulled off her sunglasses and frowned as Gin quickly pulled open the door and stuck her head through the narrow opening. "Psst! Belle!"

Belle's eyes widened at Gin's hissed whisper, and she shifted her eyes back and forth to see if the two of them were being watched. "Why are we whispering?" she whispered back.

Gin waved her hand to invite Belle inside, leaning further into the hallway before closing the door and leaning against it. "I need your help," she stated bluntly, her features masked by a determined scowl.

After dropping her purse and glasses on the counter, Belle rubbed her upper arms and nodded. "Okay . . . with what?"

With a heavy sigh, Gin pushed away from the door as she rubbed her forehead and paced the floor. "Cain and I . . . we . . . Well,_ I_ got sort of mad at him and . . . and I pushed him out of my apartment last night."

"Ah, so that's why there was no cake this morning."

Gin made a face. "Sorry about that. I was too irritated, and . . . I _made_ a cake. I just . . . I ate the whole thing."

Belle's eyebrows arched in surprise. "You ate a whole cake? By yourself?"

Gin winced. "Yes."

"Where did you put it?" she couldn't help but ask since she was staring at Gin's tiny form. Still wearing her nightclothes of a tiny mint green tank top and gray shorts, Belle couldn't imagine her being able to eat much of anything, let alone an entire cake.

"I . . . when I am upset, I eat . . . a lot, and . . . well, I was pretty upset with Cain last night."

"Can I ask . . . why?"

Biting her lower lip, Gin sighed again as her ears flattened momentarily before springing back into place. "He's just like everyone else, you know? He treats me like a pup, and I'm not a pup. He laughed at me, and he . . ." she trailed off, shaking her head as she made a disgusted face and shrugged. "Anyway, I want to be a big girl, and I can't really ask my sister-in-law because she's not really girly, and Sierra . . . She might tell Toga, and he would feel obligated to tell Papa . . . Belle, you have to help me!"

Belle grimaced, pressing her lips together in a tight line until she trusted herself to speak. She had a good idea what had happened between her father and Gin, and . . . well . . . she couldn't really blame Cain for laughing if Gin had said the same things to him that she just had to her. "Gin, out of curiosity . . . did you use the phrase, 'big girl'?"

Gin frowned. "Yeah."

Belle cleared her throat and tried not to laugh since Gin looked like she was already on guard over it. "Uh . . . let's look at your closet," she prompted.

Gin clapped her hands and hopped up and down just a little before wheeling around and leading the way to her bedroom where she gestured at her closet before flopping across her bed and kicking her feet in the air.

'_Oh, my_ . . .' Belle thought as she slowly shuffled through Gin's clothes. Mostly all dresses, and very cute ones at that, she sighed inwardly before casting Gin a quick glance over her shoulder. "Gin, what, exactly, did you have in mind?"

Gin's brow furrowed as she propped her chin on her clasped hands. "Well, I don't know . . . I want to look like a big girl, not just a pup---I want to be . . . _sexy_."

Belle nearly choked at that. '_Oh, lord, she just said 'big girl' and 'sexy' in one sentence . . . Oh, Daddy_ . . .'

'_You realize your father can barely handle 'Cute Gin'. Do you really think he could handle 'Sexy Gin'?_'

She sighed. '_Good point. Besides that, I think he likes 'Cute Gin'_.'

'_What are you going to do?_'

Belle pondered that as she pushed a few more dresses aside. Almost all of her dresses were white, pastel, or very, very light with a couple navy blue skirts but nothing really sophisticated. '_Well, maybe we can find something sort of between 'cute' and 'sexy' . . . something that suits Gin better_.'

Belle turned to face Gin with a bright smile but frowned when she noticed the pensive look on her face. "Gin? Is something else wrong?"

Gin shrugged. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay . . ." Belle agreed.

"What kind of panties do you wear?"

Belle blinked. "Panties? Why?"

Gin sighed. "I was folding mine when Cain came over, and he said they looked like your panties when you were ten, so I was wondering what sort of panties you wear now."

Belle grimaced. "That doesn't matter, Gin. Get dressed. I was just going shopping, anyway."

Gin rolled off the bed and took the dress Belle shoved at her. Belle sashayed back into the living room to wait.

'_Interesting . . . very interesting . . . Daddy saw her panties? Wow . . . Wonder what he thought of that . . .?_'

'_You should have told Gin about your panties, Belle_.'

Belle wrinkled her nose and sighed. '_Oh, I don't think that's a good idea . . . Daddy might not notice that I don't wear them since I haven't worn them for years, but something tells me he'd _absolutely_ notice if Gin didn't_ . . .'

'_You mean you're actually being rational, Belle? Hmm . . . you feeling all right?_'

'_Of course I am! Besides, Daddy seems to really like Gin just the way she is. I don't think he'd be happy if I helped her change too drastically_.'

'_I'm impressed! You actually sound like a big girl_.'

Belle giggled. '_Oh, right . . . but I do need to make sure Gin stops saying that, don't you think? I mean, if I want to laugh over it, I'm pretty sure Daddy did, too . . ._'

Belle's youkai sighed then chuckled. '_Absolutely_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Balls, Kich, are you still in bed?" 

Kichiro groaned and rolled over, dragging the pillow over his head as he tried in vain to ignore his brother's droning voice.

Ryomaru stomped over and jerked the pillow away from Kichiro. "Get up, baka. You ain't staying in bed all day."

"What do _you_ want?" Kichiro grumbled. Swinging his arm around in a futile attempt to regain the pillow, he growled furiously when Ryomaru tossed the blanket back, too.

"Kami, how can you stand those?" he demanded, wrinkling his nose at Kichiro's black silk boxer shorts.

"Go to hell, Ryo; it's Saturday, and I'm still tired."

"Just get up, will you? I'm fucking bored."

Kichiro grumbled something unintelligible and gave up with a disgusted sigh. "Sometimes I hate you," he remarked as he sat up and rolled out of bed.

Ryomaru chuckled as Kichiro stumbled to his feet and shuffled toward the kitchen. "Just sometimes?"

"Sure. The rest of the time I despise you. Why are you here at the crack of dawn, anyway?"

"It's well past the crack of dawn, baka."

"Incidentals," Kichiro scoffed as he grabbed a soda from the refrigerator popped it open. "What do you want?"

Ryomaru shrugged and wrinkled his nose. "I got home, and Nez was out with Sierra . . . Figured I'd come over and drag your lazy ass out of bed."

Kichiro digested that as he drank some soda. "Did you have to work?"

"Nah . . . I had class."

Blinking in surprise while the soda bottle paused in front of his mouth, Kichiro regarded his brother carefully. "Class? Wait . . . are you still taking those cooking classes?"

"Yeah. So?"

Kichiro cleared his throat and tried not to laugh. "Nothing, nothing . . . but why are you learning how to cook?"

"Because I wanted to," Ryomaru growled. "Ain't nothing else to it, you got that?"

"Whatever," Kichiro replied. "At least then you can offer the ones you hunt a final meal before you kill them."

"I've told Mother and the old man many times: they should have left you under Goshinboku as a hanyou sacrifice to . . . hell, whoever wanted you."

"All right, fat ass," Kichiro shot back. "I hear you."

"You know, Kich, if I have a fat ass, you have a fat ass, too."

"Nope, yours is fatter . . . since you're _all_ ass."

"Oh, you're funny, baka . . . really, really funny."

"Thanks, fat ass."

"I might be all ass, as you said, but at least my ears are softer." To emphasize his point, Ryomaru twitched the aforementioned ears.

Kichiro growled. "They are not. We're identical twins. Identical. That means identical ears."

"Identical ears," Ryomaru agreed. "They _look_ the same. Mine are just _softer_."

"Bastard."

"Bastard with much softer ears."

Kichiro pushed past his brother and rolled his eyes as he headed for the living room. Pausing long enough to check the numbers on the caller ID and finding nothing important enough to warrant a return phone call, he grabbed the remote control and flipped on the television. "If they're softer---and I doubt they are---they're not softer by much."

"Well, since they're softer---Nezumi said so---then you're just jealous because that means I'm your older, faster, bigger, badder, tougher, awesomer brother . . . with much softer ears."

"'Awesomer' isn't a word, stupid . . . and Nezumi's human. Her sense of feel isn't nearly as refined as hanyou or youkai."

"Yeah, well . . . she feels just fine to me."

"Oh, kami . . ."

Ryomaru shook his head. "You need to loosen up, Kich. You need to have 'The Sex'."

Kichiro spit out the soda that he'd been trying to drink. Ryomaru made a face and jumped back to avoid the spray. "'The Sex'?"

"Yes, 'The Sex'."

"Oh, mother of---"

"Unless it's true and you really are gay."

"I'm---not---fucking---gay."

"You're not fucking gay," Ryomaru echoed. "When's the last time you've gotten yourself---"

"Shut up, Ryo."

"All right, all right . . . for the record, though, Nez and I have 'The Sex' a lot, which is why I'm in a great mood."

"You're in a great mood because you're an idiot."

"Hmm, an idiot who gets to have 'The Sex'."

Kichiro shook his head.

"And an idiot who has softer ears than his baka baby brother."

Kichiro pinned Ryomaru with a mutinous glower and growled yet again.

"Wanna feel 'em, Kich? See what I've got that you don't?" Ryomaru teased, flicking his ears to taunt Kichiro.

"Of course I . . ." Kichiro trailed off and snorted. "Yeah, hold still, baka."

"What? Fuck, no!" Ryomaru blustered when Kichiro stepped toward him.

"You offered," Kichiro pointed out as he set his soda on a table and swiped at his brother's ears.

"Balls, no, Kich! Get the hell away from me or I'll shred you!" Ryomaru growled as he knocked Kichiro's hand away.

"Just hold still! I swear it'll only take a minute!"

"You really _are_ gay! Damn it, I said no!"

"I'm telling you, if you'd just stand still and take it like a man! Not like it'll hurt or anything----" Kichiro said as he tried to grab Ryomaru's ears again.

"Get the hell off me!"

"Just for a minute!"

Ryomaru heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Will you leave me the fuck alone?"

Kichiro nodded. "Yeah, whatever."

Ryomaru made a face. "Oh, balls . . . just do it fast, okay?"

Grasping one of his own ears in one hand and one of Ryomaru's ears in the other, Kichiro scowled as he tried to compare them. Ryomaru heaved another sigh and snorted before mimicking Kichiro's stance with one hand on his ear and Kichiro's free ear.

"I . . . don't feel any difference," Ryomaru finally said.

"You know . . . I don't, either," Kichiro agreed thoughtfully.

"Oh, for the love of kami," another voice choked out. "This is . . . oh this is _goo-o-ood_."

The twins both twisted their heads to stare at the intruder who was trying his hardest not to howl in laughter. Kichiro winced since Ryomaru hadn't let go of his ear. Toga sniggered as he lowered the camcorder and collapsed against the wall. "What the hell are you two doing?" he managed to ask between guffaws.

Kichiro was the first to jerk his hands down. Ryomaru grunted since Kichiro had tugged his ear, and he rounded on his cousin. "Tell me you don't fucking have tape in that thing," he growled.

"Okay," Toga chortled, "I don't have fucking tape in this thing."

"Thank---"

"It's one of the new DVD ones."

"Oh, hell," Kichiro grumbled as he lunged at his cousin who neatly sidestepped the hanyou.

"Get him, damn it!" Ryomaru yelled as he stalked Toga, too.

Kichiro snorted. "Yeah, I'm trying, baka!"

"Not that I didn't wonder about the two of you before---always trying to pants each other," Toga remarked as he backed out of the room. "Do me a favor and stay away from Coral and Cassidy. The last thing they need is you two bakas trying to feel their ears, too."

Kichiro snarled as he leapt forward again. Toga was too quick. Jerking the door open and sprinting outside, his laughter lingered long after Toga had run off. Ryomaru smacked Kichiro on the back of the head as he chased after their cousin.

Kichiro shook his head and closed the door. He knew from experience that Toga was faster. The chances of Ryomaru catching up to him were slim to none.

Snorting in abject disgust, Kichiro closed the door. '_Damn, I need to put an anti-baka alarm on this house_,' he thought as he strode away to take a shower.

'_Sure, but look on the bright side_.'

'_There's a bright side? Toga's going to lord that damn DVD over my head; I just know it_.'

'_There's _always_ a bright side, Kich_.'

'_All right, then, what is it?_'

'_At least you know that Belle was lying_.'

'_Feh! I don't even want to think about her! She's the one who caused all this trouble!_'

'_Sure, she said a few things, but you're the one who was stupid enough to let her get to you_.'

'_I did_ not _let her get to me_.'

'_Uh huh . . . Denial again?_'

'_Shut up_.'

'_You going to tell her you checked?_'

'_No!_'

'_Yeah, I didn't think so_ . . .'

Kichiro groaned and slammed the bathroom door.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin frowned as she eyed the dress that Belle held up for her consideration. "Every girl needs at least one little black dress, Gin. What do you think?" 

"I don't know . . . I like the design, I think . . ." she said as she shook her head. "It's just so . . . dark."

Belle giggled. "It's black. It's supposed to be dark. It's nice, though. It's classy and sophisticated without being too showy, and the back is lovely . . . why don't you try it on?"

Gin hesitantly took the hanger and glanced toward the changing rooms. "Do you think so? Wouldn't my hair cover the back?"

With a careless shrug, Belle nodded. "Sure, but if you're wearing a dress like this, you should wear your hair up. It's not like you need to dress in something like this every day, but there are times when a girl needs one of these."

"For when, exactly?" Gin asked as she slipped into one of the small changing rooms to try on the dress.

Belle's voice was muffled by the door. "Well . . . say you get invited to a cocktail party or some sort of semi-fancy thing like that."

"I see," Gin said as she slipped off her sundress and carefully pulled the black dress on.

"Hold on, Gin . . . I just saw something . . ."

"Okay," she answered as she zipped up the dress and turned to look over her shoulder. Pulling her hair out of the way, Gin winced at the amount of skin showing. Two thin straps crossed in the middle of her back to hold the dress in place but that was it, as far as actual coverage. The skirt touched her waist and fell to just below mid thigh, and while Gin felt completely vulnerable in the dress, she had to admit that the design was flattering.

'_Oh, I don't know_ . . .' she thought as she slowly shook her head. '_Papa would have a fit about this dress_ . . .'

'_Maybe but your mother would think it's lovely_.'

Gin bit her lip. '_You . . . you think so?_'

'_Well, if you don't want to be thought of as a little girl anymore, I suppose this dress might do that for you_ . . .'

'_Yeah . . . I'd like it better if it weren't black_.'

'_Sure you would, but it really is lovely_.'

'. . . _I suppose_.'

'_Belle has really good taste_.'

Gin turned from side to side as she examined her reflection. '_She does, doesn't she? I really like her_.'

Belle knocked on the door. "Gin, I found something else for you to try on."

Gin opened the door and winced as she stepped back for Belle to slip into the tiny room, too. Belle sat on the little bench and twirled her finger. Gin turned around slowly. "What do you think?"

Belle broke into a grin and giggled. "Wow, Gin . . . That dress is really nice."

"You think so? Do I look like a big girl?"

Belle bit her lip and sighed. "Yeah . . . do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

Belle made a face. "Don't say 'big girl'."

"Why?"

"It doesn't sound right."

"Oh . . . Okay."

Belle straightened up suddenly and held up the dress in her hands. "Here! Try this one!"

Gin titled her head as she stared at the thin gossamer dress. "You can . . . see through this," she said dubiously.

Belle shrugged. "Just a little. Anyway, it reminded me of the wings Daddy made for you. I just thought maybe it'd be pretty."

"Where would I wear it?"

"You wouldn't have to wear it, if you didn't want to, Gin. You don't even have to buy it, really. Just . . . try it on."

Gin eyed the dress another moment then sighed. "Okay."

She carefully slipped the black dress off and handed it to Belle before stepping into the other dress. Belle straightened the black dress on the hanger while Gin fussed with the billowing fabric of the gauzy dress. The cap sleeves spilled over her shoulders in soft waves as the simplistic lines melted together in an elegant yet flirty statement. Entirely feminine and delicate, Gin blinked as she stared at herself in the full length mirror. The dress barely rested on her shoulders and flared out around her without seeming bulky. It was loose and flowing, and Belle sighed softly.

"That is beautiful," Belle whispered. "It reminds me of the fairy princesses in the books that Daddy used to buy me."

"Fairy princesses?"

Belle giggled. "Yeah . . . I figured you'd look good in that. You look like . . . you look like one of Daddy's paintings."

Gin wondered why Belle seemed so sad but couldn't bring herself to ask. Biting her lip as she gazed at her reflection for another moment, Gin couldn't help but think about how the dress would look with Cain's wings.

"I sort of feel like a princess in this dress," she ventured, "but isn't it a waste of money to buy a dress I'll never wear in public?"

Belle shrugged and pondered Gin's question. "Maybe, but isn't it worth it?"

"Isn't what worth it?"

"To feel like a princess just for a moment?"

Gin pondered that as she turned to face her reflection once more. '_Belle's right . . . It is worth it, isn't it?_'

Belle's melancholy spoke to her. Gin wished she understood what troubled her new friend. Pretending to look at herself, she watched Belle instead, frowning as Belle stared at her hands, surrounded by sadness that only she truly understood.

"Belle? Are you okay?" Gin asked cautiously.

Belle blinked as her gaze cleared, and she smiled as her eyes met Gin's in the mirror. "Sure! I'm fine . . . maybe a little homesick."

"Aww . . . is there anything I can do to help?"

Belle shook her head. "It's not that . . . Just at home, I normally met up with my friends on Saturday nights, and we'd go dancing or just hang out . . . I miss it sometimes."

Gin shrugged. "I . . . I could do that with you. I mean, I don't know how to dance, but maybe I could learn . . .?"

"Really?"

Gin smiled tentatively. "Can you teach me?"

Belle laughed, eyes sparkling again as the shadows receded. "Oh, sure! It's not hard! I bet I can teach you." Belle's expression clouded over and she shook her head. "You sure? I mean, you weren't going to spend time with Daddy, were you? Because if you were---"

Gin wrinkled her nose. "I think it sounds like fun," she insisted. "Cain's probably mad at me for kicking him out last night, anyway."

"Well, I don't think he is," Belle said slowly. "If you're positive . . ."

Gin giggled as she took off the dress and pulled her sundress back on. "I'm positive. It sounds like fun, and I've always wanted to learn how to dance."

"Okay," Belle agreed as she yanked the dressing room door open. "Come on! Let's find something for you to wear tonight!"

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_**Kusarigama**: Sound familiar? It should. It is modeled after Kohaku's weapon. YAY_!

_**Efu tachi**, also called Hoso tachi, swords were only worn by the highest ranking daimyo and officials of the court, and more for show and ceremony than for actual use_.

_**Heinie**: This is the correct spelling, as per Dictionary(dot)com … If you don't believe me … It's in there … LMAO_!

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_Dancing sounds fun _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	20. Girls’ Night Out

**_Chapter 20_**

**_Girls' Night Out

* * *

_**

Belle held onto Gin's hand as the two girls walked into the club. Gin might be older than Belle, but it was amusing, just how excited she was. Belle could feel Gin's nervous energy. Tempered by a sense of wonder and awe, Gin was almost trembling. Belle smiled as she let go of Gin's hand and leaned toward her. "You sure you want to do this?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the din.

Gin nodded and smoothed the skirt of the red silk dress she'd bought for their night out dancing. "Are you sure this looks okay?" she questioned as she glanced down at herself.

Belle rolled her eyes. "Come on, Gin! You'll have fun, I promise!"

"How do I do this?" she demanded as she grabbed Belle's hand and dragged her into the club and onto the edge of the dance floor.

Belle laughed. "Just listen to the music and let it lead you . . . like this."

Gin stood back for a moment and watched as Belle started to dance. She caught on quickly. Belle laughed as Gin joined her. "You're good at this!" Belle commented.

"It's kind of like fighting only . . . not," Gin answered. "You know, Kich is a really good dancer."

Belle snorted.

"No, really, he is! He used to do a lot of plays and stuff in school. I'm surprised he didn't become an actor."

"He's really good at something," Belle grumbled then shook her head. "Let's not talk about your brother, okay?"

Gin winced. "Okay. I take it you're still mad at him."

"Actually, I think he might be madder at me . . . for once."

"Why?" Gin asked, her tone reluctant but curious.

Belle grinned. "I asked if he was . . . gay . . ."

"Gay?" Gin echoed, eyebrows disappearing under her thick fringe of bangs. "Kichiro? Oh, no . . . Nezumi said he and Ryomaru both were real man-whores . . . Of course, that was a few years ago, but . . ."

"Oh, was he, now?"

Gin shrugged. "Yeah, but he's been pretty quiet since Ryomaru and Nezumi were mated. I don't think he's gay, though."

Belle didn't trust herself to answer, and she concentrated on dancing, instead.

'_Is it the idea of Kichiro being good at something more expressive like dancing or acting that bothers you . . . or is it that he was apparently known as a man-whore that does? If you ask me, I'd say it was the latter_.'

'_Hmm, I don't remember asking for your opinion_.'

'_Yes, and aren't you lucky? I love to give you my opinion, anyway_.'

'_I wouldn't say lucky . . . More like forced to endure it_.'

'_Oh, aren't we being the bitch tonight, Belle?_'

'_You haven't seen bitchy yet. Keep talking, and you will_.'

'_He's really not as bad as you make him out to be. You make him sound like he's worse than Satan_.'

'_Maybe not to everyone else. To me, he _is_ Satan_.'

'_You've got a flair for the melodramatic, Bellaniece. Maybe it was inherited from your mother_.'

'_And you've got a knack for the annoying . . . I'm not sure where you got that_.'

'_Catty, catty . . . you positive you're dog-youkai?_'

Belle wrinkled her nose and tried to ignore the annoying voice.

'_I think you should try to be nice to him, just once more. If he cuts you down again, then you'll at least be able to say you've tried_.'

'_You think I can't say that now? And no thanks. He's really horrible on my ego_.'

'_Okay, I'll make a deal with you_.'

'. . . _I'm listening_.'

'_You give him one more chance---let him see the real you---and if he hurts you, I swear I'll never defend him to you, ever again_.'

'_You swear?_'

'_Yes, yes, I swear_.'

Belle sighed. '_I'll think about it_.'

Her youkai sighed, too. '. . . _Fine_.'

Gin giggled as she twirled around. "Come on, Belle! You're supposed to be having fun!"

Belle laughed. Even her bleak thoughts couldn't distract her from enjoying the excursion. For the moment at least, she was free to laugh. For the moment, she could forget about the worries about her father and the thoughts that plagued her, like the ones that centered on Kichiro Izayoi.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin leaned on the counter and asked the bartender for two bottles of water. The young man smiled as she dug into her purse for money. Belle took the bottles and thanked him before turning around and leaning back. "So what do you think?" Belle asked. 

Gin took a long drink before she grinned happily. "It's so much fun!" she squealed. "I mean, it always sounded fun, but I never got to go with my friends. Papa said it was dangerous, but I don't understand . . . there are no dangers here, not really . . ." She grimaced but her smile widened. "Maybe the loud music . . ."

The club was really crowded, the electricity of the crowd and the pulse of the music swelling into a corporeal thing. Gin had always been hyper-sensitive to people's auras and emotions. She could feel herself feeding off the current of excitement that seemed to surround everyone. She couldn't remember feeling quite like this. It was frightening yet invigorating, and Gin was having a lot of fun.

'_Your father will have a fit if he finds out you were here_.'

Gin winced. '_Well, as long as nothing bad happens, he . . . he won't care_.'

'_You don't really believe that, do you?_'

'_I _want_ to_.'

'_And Cain?_'

'_Cain?_'

'_What do you suppose Cain would say if he knew you were here?_'

Gin shook her head and sipped her water. '_He does know I'm here . . . I mean, surely he knows Belle's here, and I did come with her . . . I don't think it matters to him. Why should it?_'

'_Doll, it would matter to him, and you know it. You saw how protective he is of you. He followed you around on your date with Montaro, remember?_'

'_He doesn't need to worry. I can take care of myself. I'm not a pup anymore, and I'm really tired of everyone acting like I am. I'm a big girl, darn it! Cain can just . . . just . . . deal with that!_'

'_You promised Belle you wouldn't say 'big girl' anymore_.'

Gin sighed. '_Oh, right; I did_.'

Belle suddenly gasped, and Gin glanced over at her. The younger girl was holding out her skirt as the woman beside her smirked. "Oh, sorry," the girl said, her voice almost hostile as she set her empty glass on the counter. "I didn't see you there."

Belle forced a tight little smile and shrugged. "I'm sure," she replied in a cautious tone. "Gin, I'll be back. I'm going to go rinse this out."

"You want me to come with you?" Gin asked.

Belle's smile widened and she shook her head. Gin frowned as Belle shrugged carelessly. "No, it's fine. I just don't feel like smelling like a frat party gone bad."

Gin wrinkled her nose and nodded. She'd never cared for the smell of beer, and she could imagine that having it all over her dress would be enough to drive her insane . . . Gin sighed as she watched Belle hurry away.

"Excuse me."

Blinking quickly, Gin looked up and smiled at the young man who had approached her. "Hello," she greeted. "I'm Gin."

The young man grinned shyly. "I'm Kaori," he answered with a respectful nod. "Are you new around here? I don't remember seeing you before."

"Oh, it's the first time I've been dancing," Gin explained with a shrug. "My friend brought me here to teach me."

Kaori seemed surprised. "You dance well, I noticed."

"Thank you."

"Would you like to dance with me?"

"Okay," she agreed, setting her water bottle on the counter behind her before she slipped her hand into his, letting him lead her toward the dance floor.

Kaori slipped an arm around her waist, and Gin jumped. "Wh-what are you doing?" she asked when he held onto her.

"Dancing." he said replied without loosening his grip.

"But the song's pretty fast," she said slowly. "I'd rather dance the other way."

Kaori laughed. "You'll like dancing like this," he replied, pulling her a little closer as he gyrated his hips against hers.

Gin gasped as embarrassed color filtered into her cheeks. Without thinking, she shoved Kaori away. He stumbled back with an expression on his face that was so shocked, so surprised, that it might have been amusing, had Gin not been so upset.

Kaori careened into another couple dancing nearby, nearly sending the girl sprawling to the floor. The girl's partner caught her and steadied her before whipping around to punch Kaori. Kaori's head snapped to the side, and he landed on his backside. People stopped dancing to watch as Kaori got back to his feet and barreled at the other man.

'_Oh, no!_' Gin thought with a wince as Kaori gave the man a hard shove.

'_This isn't good_,' Gin's youkai remarked as the man shoved Kaori back.

"What's going on?" Belle asked as she touched Gin's arm.

Gin grimaced. "Um . . . I was dancing with him," she said, pointing at Kaori, "but he . . . did this weird thing, and I pushed him to make him let go . . ."

"I see," Belle remarked. "Wow . . . This isn't good, is it?"

"I can't let them fight," Gin groaned as she started to dart forward to separate the two men.

Belle caught her arm. "Gin, are you crazy? You can't get into that!"

"Oh, that's nothing! I used to break up fights between Ryo and Kich all the time . . ."

"No, that's not what I mean! Look, guys . . . do stupid stuff like this. They won't really hurt each other. See? I think they're done now."

True enough, other than the two men in question still glaring at each other, everyone else was starting to dance again, and Gin heaved a sigh of relief---until Kaori turned back toward her and strode forward. He looked like he was contemplating mayhem, and Gin recoiled as Belle suddenly stepped forward to intercept the young man.

"Hiya . . . I'm Belle. Wanna dance?"

Kaori slowly let his gaze travel up and down Belle's frame. The girl smiled and shot Gin an indiscernible look as Kaori nodded. "All right."

'_What's she doing?_' Gin wondered as Belle backed off enough to dance near Kaori but skillfully avoided being drawn into his arms.

'_I think . . . I think she saved us_,' her youkai answered, a hint of awe in the tone.

'_Saved us? Because he was so angry?_'

'_Yeah, that sounds about right_.'

"Hi, you want to dance?"

Gin glanced up into the eyes of another young man she didn't know. "Oh, uh . . . I . . . I think I'll sit this one out," she replied as she backed away from him, straight into someone else. "Excuse me!" she exclaimed as she spun around.

"No, no . . . I'm sorry, I can't do that."

Gin started to shake her head in confusion as the beginnings of a killer headache throbbed in the back of her head.

"I'll forgive you if you dance with me," he went on, ignoring Gin's confusion.

"Oi, I asked her to dance first," the other man stated.

"No, really, I think I need to sit down," she stated.

The men ignored her as they sized each other up. Gin rubbed her temples furiously as she caught sight of Belle. Belle caught the distressed look and mumbled something to Kaori before hurrying over to catch Gin's hand and pull her out from between the two men.

"Just dance," Belle muttered.

Gin shook her head. "But---"

"It's all right. They're fine now. See?"

Glancing over her shoulder, Gin was relieved to see the two men, now standing side by side, watching as Belle and Gin started dancing. The pain in her head receded.

"Relax, Gin, it's okay. I should have warned you before I went to the bathroom. Just don't dance with strangers. It's safer that way."

"Oh," Gin replied. It made sense. If she didn't dance with anyone but Belle, there wouldn't be any trouble.

The two men stepped forward, dancing near the girls but not exactly with them. Gin tried to ignore them as she willed herself to relax. Belle didn't seem to be bothered by the two, so Gin figured it was safe enough.

The song ended, and the next one began. It was a slow song, and Belle grabbed Gin's hand to pull her off the dance floor. The men stopped them. "You're not leaving, are you?"

"No, just going to get a drink," Belle replied lightly.

"I'll buy you whatever you want to drink as soon as this song's over," the other man remarked as he grabbed Gin's free hand and tugged.

"Oh, I---"

"Come on, Gin. These guys have fewer manners than common swine," Belle remarked pleasantly.

"That sounds like a challenge."

"That sounds like a promise."

"That sounds like we're leaving," Belle retorted.

Gin pulled her hand away from the man's grasp and let Belle drag her away.

The guy grabbed Gin's hand again, and she shot Belle a panicked look as a blur of movement flashed before her. Her hand was abruptly freed, and the young man went flying as the crack of bone meeting bone silenced the noisy club. Gin couldn't repress the dismayed moan as stared back into a pair of eyes she knew all too well.

"I can explain, Kich," she hurried to say.

"Save it," he growled as he grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the club and onto the street.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro paced back and forth in front of Belle and Gin for nearly ten minutes before he even dared look at either one of them. The two things he really wanted to do were to turn one over his knee and throttle the other. The trouble was that he wasn't sure if he wanted to turn Gin over his knee and throttle Belle or vice versa . . . 

His heart had nearly plummeted to his feet when he'd strolled into the dance club only to see Gin being dragged away by some bastard who obviously didn't have a whit of common sense. The baka likely had a broken nose, and he could count himself lucky for that. Had it been Ryomaru or InuYasha who had caught him, Kichiro didn't doubt for a moment that the idiot would be dead . . .

Stopping abruptly and swinging around to face them, Kichiro sighed and poked a finger at both girls before demanding, "Whose idiotic idea was this?"

Gin winced, ears flattening as she opened her mouth. Belle blurted, "Mine."

Kichiro rolled his eyes. "Well, that's not really surprising. And you thought it'd be amusing to drag my sister along with you because . . .?"

"That's not fair, Kich! Belle---"

"Look, I wanted to go dancing, and Gin said you and your brother and your father would get bent over it. I thought she was kidding. I dragged her along, and that's that," Belle cut in. "So if you want to be mad at someone, Dr. Izayoi, then be mad at me."

"Belle . . ."

Belle shot Gin a quelling glance.

"Yeah, I should have known it was something like that. Damn, Belle! Isn't it enough that you manipulate everyone and everything around you? Stay the hell away from my sister."

Gin sighed and shook her head. "That's not true! I wanted to come along. I wanted to learn how to dance. It's not Belle's fault."

"Forget it, Gin. He already thinks the worst of me. He can't really think much less, can you, Dr. Izayoi?"

Kichiro narrowed his gaze on Belle. "No, I really can't. Come on. I'm taking you both home."

The girls followed along behind him as he led the way to his car.

The ride back to the apartment building was quiet and tense. Gin opted to sit in the back seat with Belle instead of next to him, and Kichiro stifled a sigh. She didn't have any qualms about letting Kichiro know in her not-so-subtle way that she thought he was being completely unreasonable, as far as Belle was concerned.

'_What if she's telling the truth?_'

Kichiro snorted. '_She isn't. Gin's just covering for Belle_.'

'_Yeah? Well, you're forgetting one very important thing_.'

'_And that would be . . .?_'

'_Gin can't lie for shit_.'

'_Maybe she's been practicing_.'

'_And maybe you just want to blame Belle_.'

'_And maybe you should keep your opinions to yourself_.'

'_And maybe you're just an ass_.'

'_Yeah, well, Belle needs to stay away from Gin. She's nothing like her. Gin's sweet and kind . . . completely the opposite of Belle_.'

'_Damn, Kich, you're being really hard on her, don't you think?_'

'_What I think is that she manipulated Gin into thinking that this was a good idea when Gin had no business ever being in a place like that!_'

'_You're not giving Gin enough credit. She ain't stupid_.'

Kichiro parked his car outside the apartment building and rolled his eyes. '_It isn't about Gin being stupid. Gin's just sheltered. She doesn't have a clue, what could happen to a girl like her, and frankly, I'd rather that she doesn't have to find out, either._'

'_And you're not just using Gin as another easy reason to convince yourself that you don't like Belle?_'

That, in Kichiro's opinion, didn't even deserve an answer.

Gin didn't speak again until after she closed her apartment door.

"That was completely unfair," Gin said quietly before she turned to face him.

"I don't remember asking if you thought it was fair."

Gin shook her head, wrapping her arms over her stomach as she stepped away from the door. "Of course you didn't. No one ever asks me what I think is fair. No one bothers to think that maybe I'll be okay if I go somewhere with a friend."

"Find another friend, Gin. Belle . . . She's not good enough to be your friend."

"Why is that? Because you said so? Why are you being such a jerk, Kich? You've never been a jerk, and it doesn't really suit you."

"Think what you want, baby girl. You and I both know that if that had been Ryo or the old man---hell, even Toga---that pup would have gotten a lot worse than a broken nose."

Gin's cheeks flushed as her eyebrows drew together. "Nothing happened," she argued.

Kichiro snorted decisively. "You call that bastard trying to drag you onto the dance floor 'nothing'?"

"He didn't hurt me," she argued, "and even then, I 'm not a pup anymore. I think I can defend myself well enough. Papa trained me, too."

Kichiro snorted. "That's not the point, Gin." Heaving a sigh as he rubbed his temple and tried to contain his rising irritation, he deliberately took his time before trying to explain the situation to his sister. "You don't see things the way the rest of us have to. What you saw as a chance to do something the old man wouldn't ever have let you do . . . Those guys aren't nice, and they're going to take one look at you and think that they can take advantage of you."

"Why don't you worry less about me and more about Belle? She's the one who---" Gin stopped abruptly, clamping her mouth closed on whatever it was she had almost said. Waving her hand in dismissal, she shook her head.

"She's the one who . . . 'what'?" Kichiro pressed.

Gin shrugged. "Nothing . . . I just think you're being mean for no good reason."

Kichiro narrowed his gaze on Gin, positive that she wasn't telling him something. He also recognized the stubborn set of her jaw, the mulish pout on her lips. Whatever she had been about to say, she wasn't going to tell him if she had anything to say about it.

"Look, Gin, You really do think that people are just good; that there isn't anyone anywhere that would hurt you, but it's not true, and Belle . . . she doesn't think before she does stupid things. Just stay away from her. She's nothing but trouble."

"Sort of like you and Ryomaru, you mean?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

Gin wandered over to the window and stared into the darkness. "What do you think it means, Kich? You and Ryomaru had Mama and Papa fooled into thinking you were so good, right? You're a hypocrite."

"This isn't about me."

"Of course it isn't. It's about Gin, and Gin's inability to make decisions on her own, right? Belle didn't drag me out there. She was homesick, and I thought maybe she wouldn't feel so lonely if we went dancing."

"I know how Belle thinks, and I know what Belle does. She was using you."

"Belle's a sweet girl, and---"

"She's using you!"

"No, she isn't!"

"Don't be naïve, Gin! Girls like Belle---"

"Are no worse than you and Ryomaru used to be!"

Kichiro shook his head and strode to the door. "I mean it, Gin. If I catch you out with Belle ever again, I'll do whatever I have to do, even if that means telling the old man."

"You'd really do that, Kich?"

He shifted his gaze to the side, glaring at the wall as he wished that Gin hadn't sounded quite so hurt by his threat. "Yeah, I would. If it meant you were safe, then damn it, yes, I would."

"Fine. Next time I'll make sure you don't catch me."

"Gin . . ." he warned.

Gin strode across the room and jerked the door open. "Good night."

He stared at her for a moment then nodded. "All right, be angry, but I'm not changing my mind."

Gin smiled sadly. "Yeah, neither am I."

Kichiro left her, pausing in the hallway to glare at Belle's door. '_I should tell the old man, anyway . . . doubt he knows that Gin lives next to the Daughter of Darkness_.'

'_The Daughter of Darkness, Kich? You really think Belle's that bad?_'

'_Yeah, I do_.'

'_Oh, balls, she's no worse than you . . . and even if you don't like it, the fact remains that Gin went along with Belle; Belle didn't force her to go_.'

'_That's what Belle wants you to believe. She's evil like that_.'

'_Right . . . well, if you're that concerned about it, why don't you talk to her father?_'

'_And say what? 'Oh, by the way, your daughter is evil incarnate and must be kept away from my innocent little sister'? Yeah, that'll work_ . . .'

'_Ain't that what you think?_'

Kichiro made a face. '_Damn straight_.'

He reached Belle's door in less than ten strides and pounded on it before he could think things through. Chances were that Belle's father wasn't going to like what Kichiro had to say. '_Too bad_,' he thought as he tapped his foot, waiting for someone to answer. '_He obviously can't control her. Probably doesn't even realize Belle's a holy terror _. . .'

'_Is it really your place to point that out?_'

Kichiro snorted. '_Feh. Yes, it is_.'

'_Yeah, okay . . . when her father hands you your ass on the way out, don't say you weren't warned_.'

'. . . _I'm not scared of her father_.'

'_Her father is the North American tai-youkai, and sure, maybe he did inherit the title, but you know, somewhere along the way, he probably had to defend it, too. You might not get killed but you'll probably make the both of us uncomfortable for awhile_.'

Kichiro's retort was cut off when the door swung open. Belle raised her eyebrows in mock surprise and tilted her head to the side. "Lost? If you are, I'd be more than happy to tell you where to go."

"Cute, little girl. I want to talk to your father."

"Hmm, sorry. Daddy's too busy to talk to a petty hanyou like you."

"Aren't you hanyou, yourself?" he countered.

"The 'hanyou' part isn't the problem; it's the 'petty' part."

"If you say so, Belle-chan. Where is your father?"

Belle crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged carelessly. "I told you, my father's busy."

Kichiro frowned as he sniffed then made a face. "Kami, wench, you smell like a brewery. Not enough that you had to drag my sister on one of your foolhardy escapades, but you were drinking, too?"

Belle leaned back, glower dropping to her dress for a moment before glaring back at him as indignant color flooded her cheeks. '_She ought to be embarrassed. She ought to wash that stench off before her father smells her_ . . .'

"Yeah, I figured, you know, why not? How did you know that's _exactly_ why I dragged Gin to the club---so I could get stinking drunk and land Gin in tons of trouble with her idiot brother. You figured me out, Dr. Izayoi. Now good night."

Kichiro's hand shot out, catching Belle's wrist and jerking her closer in one fluid movement.

"Ouch," Belle complained.

"Right, Belle . . . You and I both know that didn't hurt."

"If you're smart, you'll let go of me, right now," she ground out.

"And if you're smart, you'll stop provoking me, right now."

"Go to---"

"Don't finish that."

Belle tugged her arm. Kichiro's grip tightened in silent warning. "What do you want?"

"I want you to promise you'll stay away from Gin; _far_ away from Gin."

Belle pressed her lips together as she drew a deep breath and slowly shook her head. "You're unbelievable; you know that? You're just . . . Do you practice being nasty or does it just come naturally?"

"Careful, Belle-chan," he warned, his gaze slipping to her lips as he pulled her just a little closer.

"Don't threaten me, Dr. Izayoi. I'd never be afraid of the likes of you."

"You should be," he growled.

"In what world?" she challenged, eyes flashing as she stubbornly refused to back down.

Kichiro opened his mouth to answer, but a low growl and a gruff voice behind Belle interrupted first.

"Who are you, and what the hell are you doing with your hands on my daughter?"

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_For fanartists: Feel free to do fanarts and email them in. For more information on submission, visit the fanart page of my website! www(dot)suericfanfictions(dot)com(slash)fanarts(dot)htm_ …

_**Desideratum** has been reposted. It's InuYasha/Kagome and Miroku/Sango … The Prologue and Chapter 1 are both up. Have fun_!

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Such an ass _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	21. Fairy Dust

**_Chapter 21_**

**_Fairy Dust

* * *

_**

"Are you going to answer me or am I going to rip your damn hands off?"

Kichiro glowered at Belle for another moment before shifting his glare to the man standing behind Belle. Standing in a protective stance with his hands on Belle's shoulders, Kichiro didn't doubt for a moment that this man was definitely her father, and that he was hard pressed to keep from laying into him straight off. "Call off your dog, little girl," Kichiro growled.

Belle's gaze narrowed. "It's fine, Daddy. He was just leaving."

"Not hardly," Kichiro assured her as he let go of Belle's wrist without taking his eyes off her father. "Your daughter dragged my sister to a dance club tonight," Kichiro remarked. "I want her promise that she'll stay the fuck away from my baby sister."

"I assure you, I think I'd know if Bellaniece had---"

"Yeah, I'd think you'd know, too, but apparently you didn't. Keep your hedonistic daughter away from her."

The formidable inu-youkai growled as his eyes darkened. "I don't think I like your implications, pup, and if you slight Bellaniece again, it'll be for the last time."

"Yeah? Too damn bad. Ask your daughter where I found them."

"Them?" Cain echoed.

Kichiro rolled his hand in an impatient gesture. "Your daughter dragged my sister to a dance club," he growled. "She was being carted around like the flavor of the month---no thanks to your damn daughter."

Cain crossed his arms over his chest as he glared from Kichiro to Belle and back again. He seemed a lot more agitated, and Kichiro could only hope he was finally listening. "I will warn you once more: address my daughter properly or not at all . . . as for your sister . . . what makes you think that Bellaniece twisted her arm into going along?"

"If you knew my sister, you'd realize that Gin isn't the kind of girl who goes bar hopping," Kichiro bit out.

Cain's eyes flared in obvious surprise that he masked quickly enough but not before Kichiro noticed the odd spark. "Gin? That's your sister?"

"Yeah, that's my sister." Kichiro shifted his stance as he regarded the tai-youkai. "You sound like you know her."

"Well, yeah . . . she's my . . . student."

"Good, then you know that she's not stupid enough to go running around at all hours, and to bars, no less."

"I hate to tell you, pup, but no matter how persuasive Bellaniece can be, she hardly counts as someone who'd twist your sister's arm to make her go along with anything."

Kichiro snorted. "Feh! I know that your daughter's a spoiled brat who thought she could manipulate me into doing her friend's reconstructive surgery by paying me with your money and lying to her friend. Doesn't really speak very well for her; don't you think?"

Cain stalked toward Kichiro as he broke into a low growl meant as a warning. Belle caught Cain's arm before he could reach Kichiro. "It's okay, Daddy . . . Dr. Izayoi was born in a bad mood."

Cain shook his daughter's hands off but stopped advancing. "I should have known. You're just as obnoxious as your father."

Kichiro was caught off guard by that admission. "You've met the old man?"

"In passing."

"And you're still standing? He's taken down better than you. You'll understand if I don't really think you'd care to cross him, should he find out that your daughter was dragging Gin all over hell's half-acre."

"Good, then you'll understand if I beat the living---"

"Daddy, it's fine!" Belle insisted as she slipped between Kichiro and Cain once more. "I really think you should leave," she warned, backing up in hopes of forcing Cain to step away.

Kichiro crossed his arms over his chest and snorted. "I'm not leaving till you swear you'll stay the hell away from my sister," he growled.

"I don't turn my back on my friends, even if their _brothers_ don't approve," Belle ground out. "So you'll be waiting for that promise for a very long time."

"Will I?" Kichiro countered.

'_You know, Kich, her father isn't looking too impressed with you_.'

'_Not now!_'

'_Oh, right, so you want me to be quiet so you can get both our asses kicked?_'

'_Yeah, yeah, that'd be good_.'

'_Feh! Fine . . . baka_.'

"I think it'd be wise to leave now," Cain pointed out in a calm, controlled tone despite the absolute irritation evident in his darkened expression.

"I'll leave," Kichiro agreed. "For the record, though, it would be wise to keep your deviant daughter away from Gin . . . for her sake and yours."

"Yeah, and I don't take well to threats, pup. Best you remember that before I decide that you're beneath my time and trouble and kick your ass for fun."

"I've been threatened by better men than you . . . my old man, for example," Kichiro spouted back. Maybe it was stupid of him to do such a thing. Trouble was, he wasn't really thinking clearly. The desire to lay into the youkai was rapidly fraying the edges of Kichiro's better judgment. "Your damn daughter smells like a fucking brewery, if you didn't notice . . . You'd do well to leash her before she---"

Cain's movement was little more than a blur of color and a soft breeze of fabricated wind. Kichiro choked as the youkai slammed him against the wall, his claws closing around his throat. Kichiro still refused to back down. "Did I strike a nerve?"

"Daddy!" Belle exclaimed as she tugged on Cain's arm. "Daddy, _stop_ it!"

"Who the hell do you think you are? Regardless of what part my daughter played in this, she isn't the only one to blame, no matter what you think. Give me a reason to shred you."

"Daddy, please! He's going to do Kelly's surgery!" Belle pleaded.

Cain's grip loosened a little. Kichiro knocked his hand away and glowered at Cain without sparing a glance at Belle.

"Run your mouth off about Bellaniece again, and she'll not be able to stop me," Cain warned.

"If you really think you can," Kichiro shot back.

Cain erupted in a menacing growl. Belle put a hand against her father's chest to stop him. "Good night, Dr. Izayoi," she said tightly as she pushed him back into the hallway and started to close the door. For a moment, Kichiro considered putting a hand out to stop her but shook his head. Even if he hadn't necessarily won that round, he had at least made his point.

Glaring at the closed door for another moment, Kichiro finally turned and strode toward the stairwell.

* * *

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* * *

Bellaniece lingered with her hand on the door handle, obviously waiting for whatever tirade Cain could muster. 

"So tell me, pup, why do you reek of beer?" he finally asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

She sighed, slowly turning to face him as she winced just a little. "Some girl spilled it on me. I tried to wash it out in the bathroom, but . . ."

Cain nodded thoughtfully. "All right, I'll buy that."

"I wasn't trying to sell you anything, Daddy."

"Hmm . . ."

Biting her bottom lip as she tried not to fidget, Bellaniece pressed her palms together and tried to look innocent.

"I seem to recall you saying that you and Gin were going to _dinner_."

Bellaniece grimaced. "They serve food at the club . . ."

"Bellaniece . . ."

"Daddy, I didn't ask her to go, I promise! We were shopping earlier, and I mentioned how I'd go dancing and stuff with friends back home, and she . . . she wanted to learn how to dance."

"And the part about Gin being dragged around?" he demanded.

Bellaniece shifted from one foot to the other. "We-e-ell . . ."

He narrowed his gaze and dropped his chin a notch.

"I was in the bathroom trying to wash the beer off of my skirt. When I came out, Gin was trying to get away from a guy . . . and she backed into another one or something . . . Nothing happened! Dr. Izayoi came in, lost his temper, decked the guy, and brought us home!"

"Why did he deck him?"

With a sigh, Bellaniece shook her head and tossed her hands up in obvious defeat. "because he's a hot-head. Honestly, Daddy, Gin was fine! She's hanyou, and she knows how to protect herself . . . She shoved the first guy away pretty hard---hard enough to indirectly start a fight . . . sort of . . . Anyway, these other guys wanted her to dance with them, and---"

"How the hell many _were_ there?" Cain choked out.

"Well, just those . . . three . . ."

"Oh, God . . ."

"I did tell her that she should only dance with people she knows, so I think that it'd help a lot, and she did have fun, I think---at least till her idiot brother came in . . ."

"Bellaniece, you're babbling," Cain remarked, rubbing his temples furiously as he heaved a heavy sigh, "and you're really not helping, either."

"I'm sorry, Daddy . . . Gin really did want to go, and . . . and honestly, I thought maybe she was joking about her family being so overprotective."

"Obviously not," Cain agreed with another sigh. "Stay here."

"Where are you going?"

Cain didn't stop walking. "Where do you think?"

The hallway was empty, and Cain hesitated before knocking on Gin's door. He didn't sense Kichiro Izayoi's presence---all things considered, a very good thing---and he slowly shook his head before he raised his fist to tap.

It took a minute for Gin to open the door, and when she did, Cain blinked in surprise. She'd managed to catch him completely off guard again. Greeting him in a thin-strapped crimson silk dress that showed a little too much leg and cleavage as far as he was concerned, and still smelled like the club, she nibbled a stick of chocolate pocky in much the same way that a rabbit would munch a lettuce leaf. She didn't say a word before turning around and heading back around the bar.

Cain repressed the vicious growl that welled up in his throat upon seeing her retreating form wrapped so nicely in the figure-hugging silk that clung to her in all the right places. The dress was sophisticated yet simple, and on a girl like Gin, it was absolutely devastating . . .

'_She wore_ that _to the dance club?_'

Cain winced. '_Yeah, she did_ . . .'

'_Damn, Cain . . . this isn't good_.'

'_Nope, it sure isn't_.'

'. . . _Want to go hunting?_'

Imaging what the men at the club must have thought wasn't too difficult since Cain was probably thinking about the same things. He blinked and flushed when he realized he was growling, and that Gin was warily watching him. '_Yep, I do_.'

Two empty pocky boxes were tossed carelessly on the normally immaculate counter, and Gin didn't say anything as she fished another stick of the treat out of the foil packet.

"Bellaniece tells me you were out at a dance club," he finally remarked, struggling for a calm that he was far from feeling since he could smell the reek of those faceless men every time Gin moved.

"She didn't make me go," Gin answered, her tone belligerent, as if she expected Cain to condemn his daughter. "Don't be angry with her."

"I didn't think she did," he replied, "and I'm not angry with her."

'_Liar_.'

'_I'm not angry with her . . . a little irritated, maybe, but not angry_ . . .'

"Good," Gin said with a sigh. Her ears flattened momentarily as she started in on another helpless pocky stick. "I had fun. I wanted to go. I've never gotten to do something like that before."

"Gin, go change," he growled, wrinkling his nose at the lingering stench. He couldn't think straight, let alone try to control his emotions while she smelled like . . . like . . .

'_Like someone else?_'

'. . . _Yeah_.'

"What?"

Cain shook his head. "Go change," he said again, much louder the second time.

Gin straightened her back and glanced down at her dress. "There's nothing wrong with this dress," she countered, her eyes narrowing as she met his glower with one of her own.

"There's a lot wrong with that dress, starting with the God-awful stink of it."

Gin opened her mouth and snapped it closed again as she gaped indignantly back at him. "I don't stink!" she informed him.

Cain snorted. "Pfft! That's not what I meant! You smell like . . . _strangers_."

Gin snorted, too. "I _like_ this dress. I don't _feel_ like changing . . . and you can't _make_ me."

He had to count to twenty-five before he dared to try to reason with her. Gin finished off the package of pocky and grabbed bag of grape gummies out of the cupboard behind her. "You're still mad at me about last night?"

She made a face as she ripped open the bag and tore the first packet open. "Nope."

"If you're not, then why are you acting like you are?"

"Because I wasn't mad at you about last night anymore," she replied. "Now I'm mad because you're trying to tell me what to do."

"Fine," he countered, leaning across the counter to sniff her again before turning on his heel and heading for the door.

"Where are you going?"

Cain grasped the handle and twisted. "To go find whoever thought they could rub their scent all over you."

Gin dropped the bag of gummies on the counter and skittered over to grab his arm. "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm going to kill him---or them . . ."

Gin didn't let go. "_What?_ No! You can't do that! _Cain!_" she whined as he tried to shake her off.

"Then change clothes," he demanded.

Gin uttered a frustrated growl and glowered at him for a moment before heaving a sigh as she spun around and stomped off toward her bedroom.

'_Congratulations, you've officially sank to a new low_,' his youkai remarked as he watched Gin huff away.

'_Shut up. It worked, didn't it?_'

'_And if she had called your bluff? What then?_'

Cain made a face. '_Who said it was a bluff? She changes or I kill whoever thought to rub his stench on her . . . Either way, it's a win-win situation_ . . .'

'_You're such a dog, Cain_.'

Cain smiled grimly and tapped his foot as he waited for Gin to come out of her room. '_Woof_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle sighed as she watched her father close the door behind him. It was worse than him being angry at her. No, he'd given her 'the look'---the one that meant that she'd disappointed him, and that somehow made her feel worst of all. 

'_Duh, Belle . . . you should have known that it was a bad idea, from the start_.'

Wandering over to the windows, Belle shook her head as she wrapped her arms over her stomach and stared at the night sky. '_How was I supposed to know that she was dead serious? I really thought she was . . . exaggerating_ . . .'

'_Gin's too earnest to exaggerate. No, this was entirely your fault. Kichiro is really upset with her, and your father_ . . .'

Belle frowned. '_They're more upset with me, and that's how it should be_.'

'_Really? Then you've done a fantastic job_.'

'_If you really thought I did all that on purpose_---'

'_That's the point, Belle! You didn't have to do it on purpose because you just didn't think at all! You never think, do you? Even if Kichiro hadn't been upset about it, didn't you think for a moment that your father would be? You know he cares about Gin! What if he's over there making an ass of himself because of you?_'

Belle winced. '_What was I supposed to say to Gin? That we couldn't go dancing because she'd upset the very sands of time by doing so? Oh, please! They're all overreacting! Gin's absolutely right. She isn't a pup anymore, and it's about time everyone figured that out. I'm not saying she needs to go crazy, but just going dancing? We didn't do anything wrong_ . . .'

'_Maybe you didn't, but the ones who matter aren't going to listen to your reasoning, either. Do you really think Kichiro Izayoi is interested in hearing anything other than 'yes, you're right'? And your father . . . At least he has a reason for not wanting Gin out running around. It's a wonder he is fighting it so hard. He's all about her lately_.'

Belle finally smiled at that thought. '_He is, isn't he? He's so . . . He's been different lately; happier . . . He seems more content. Gin's good for him_.'

'_It does seem like it, but you might want to put a lid on your optimism. A lot of things can happen, you know?_'

'_I know_,' Belle agreed as she let her gaze fall to the street below. Cars crept past like a constantly moving string of Christmas lights under the abrasive fake warmth of the streetlamps. She noticed the late-model silver sedan still parked in front of the building and grimaced. '_Kichiro's still here? But why?_'

She thought he'd left. She heard him walk away after she closed the door on him, but that was definitely his car. '_This can't be good_,' she thought as she slowly shook her head. '_What if he didn't really leave? What if he goes back to Gin's apartment?_" Belle's eyes widened, and she stifled a moan. "_On, no . . . Daddy!_'

Belle didn't stop to think as she wheeled around and ran for the door. Pausing outside Gin's door long enough to ascertain that her father was there but Kichiro wasn't, she glanced up and down the hallway as she dug her claws into the palms of her hands. '_Where is he?_'

'_Quick, Belle . . . maybe he's in the lobby or something . . . Just make sure he doesn't come back up here, or there's going to be more trouble than Cain shoving Kichiro against a wall, and you know it_ . . .'

'_Yes, well, I'm not doing this to save Kichiro Izayoi_,' she thought as she sprinted toward the stairs. '_Daddy doesn't need the stress . . . and neither does Gin._'

'_Yeah, just move it, Bellaniece!_'

He was down there. She could sense his youki. Stopping on the stairs just out of sight from the lobby area, Belle sat down on a step and bit her index finger claw.

'_Great, he's there. Now what?_' her youkai asked.

'_Now we just sit here and make sure he doesn't try going back upsta_irs,' she reasoned.

'_Yeah, okay . . . One problem_.'

'_What?_'

'_What if he takes the elevator?_'

'_He wouldn't_----" Belle started then winced. '_Then again, he just might_ . . .'

'. . . _I don't want to go down there_.'

Belle sighed softly, letting her head fall against the banister. '_Me, either_.'

"What the hell do you want?"

Stifling a groan, Belle stood up and lifted her chin before forcing herself to descent the last flight of stairs. Kichiro stood at the bottom, arms crossed over his chest, and ears flicking in absolute irritation. "What are you still doing here?"

Kichiro snorted. "I was thinking about taking Gin to the old man's house."

"You're really something, you know that? A real piece of work."

He grabbed her arm as she started to walk past him toward the mailboxes lining the wall near the entrance. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Take your hands off me," she warned.

"Answer my question."

Injecting as much ice as she could muster into her gaze as she glared pointedly at his hand, still wrapped around her arm, Belle sighed. "None of your business. I'm not Gin. You can't make me do or say anything because you _think_ you have the right."

"Damn, you have a sharp tongue."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet, Dr. Izayoi. Now if you'd please take your hands off me, because I assure you, my father does not make empty threats."

"Not until you tell me where you're going."

"What does it matter? You don't care, and even if you did, you don't have the right to ask me anything."

"That's where you're wrong," he countered, grasping her other arm and pulling her around to face him. "You don't have a damn bit of common sense in that beautiful head of yours, do you, Belle?"

Belle's breath caught with a strangled gasp, and she swallowed hard. She tried to remember that she needed to breathe, but the air around them seemed to be hissing in her ears, buzzing in her head. She felt strangely dizzy, and for a long second, she thought she was going to fall. '_Beautiful? Did he . . . did he just say . . .?_'

"You still reek of beer," he growled, but his voice had taken on a huskier quality as his gaze settled on her lips. Slightly parted as she managed a few weak, stuttering breaths, she tried to speak as words formed and dissolved under the intensity of his stare. "Damn it, Belle, why do you have to be so . . .?"

"Let go," she whispered.

"Are you going to run?"

"I never run."

"Yeah, I didn't think you would."

His mouth on hers swallowed her gasp as he dragged her closer. She didn't think to fight him. She didn't think that they were in the middle of the lobby where anyone who happened to be coming or going would see them. She forgot to think at all. Kichiro's lips were soft, warm against hers. The initial crush of his mouth softened as she relented, letting her body collapse against his as he let go of her only to wrap his arms around her, instead.

All his abrasiveness faded, and in those moments, Belle wasn't sure what she knew or what she really believed. She didn't have time to stop or to think. His lips were too insistent, too persuasive. Her arms were trapped against his chest, against the ripple of muscles that surged under her fingertips. He broke down her defenses before she had a chance to construct them, and when his teeth grazed over lips, she shivered as her knees gave way.

Very loud throat clearing broke through Belle's idyll, but it still took a few seconds for the sound to make sense to her. Kichiro tensed under her hands, though, and with a mumbled curse, he shoved her back. She stumbled but caught herself on the banister, too dazed to even blush as the middle-aged couple on the stairs they were blocking squeezed past the two. Belle stared at her hands as she tried to catch her breath, and she couldn't meet Kichiro's gaze.

"You really are stupid, aren't you?" he finally asked as the door closing behind the couple made Belle grit her teeth.

"I'm stupid?" she echoed, unable to mask the hurt in her tone. "You're the one who---"

"Yeah, and you're the one who was dumb enough to follow me. You got what you were after, didn't you? Go on and run back upstairs now."

She might have laughed if his words weren't so precisely honed to draw blood. The entire situation was ludicrous. Maybe she did follow him down, but not to kiss him. She'd only meant to make sure he didn't go back upstairs to Gin's apartment; that was all . . . "You think I came down here to kiss you? You arrogant, presumptuous bas---"

"Get over it, Belle. Why else did you come down here?"

Glancing over her shoulder as she told herself that she would not cry, Belle saw the mailboxes again. "I came down to check the mail, if it's all the same to you."

Kichiro didn't say anything as she forced herself to walk over to the boxes. Her hand was shaking so badly she had to enter the combination four times before the little door swung open. Belle jerked the mail from the box and closed it before making herself walk back to the stairs again. Kichiro moved to block her path before she could head back up the stairs. "I'll have that promise now."

"Promise?" she echoed with a slight shake of her head. "What promise?"

Kichiro's smile was dry, dull, lacking any real amusement. "I want to hear you say you'll stay the hell away from Gin."

"Is that why you kissed me? So you could coerce a promise out of me that I have no intention of making?"

"Why else would I do something as stupid as kiss _you?_"

Belle could feel the rush of indignant color rise in her cheeks. "I see," she bit out as she pushed Kichiro out of the way and hurried up the stairs.

She heard the door slam again as she reached the landing between the second and third floors. Wincing as the sound echoed in her head, Belle quickened her pace. If she could just get back into the apartment; if she could only reach the sanctity of the bathroom, of the shower . . . It was the one place where her father wouldn't smell her tears. It was the one place she dared to let herself go.

Vision blurring as she darted up the stairs, she stumbled but caught herself, and she ran faster. '_Daughter of the tai-youkai . . . You cannot cry . . . You must be strong_ . . .'

Dashing the back of her hand over her eyes as she sniffled and kept moving, Belle clenched her jaw as she fought in vain to keep the tears from falling.

'_And you never, ever cry over Kichiro Izayoi_ . . .'

* * *

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* * *

Gin stomped out of her bedroom with her arms crossed over her chest and a definite pout on her face. She stopped short when she reached the living room only to find Cain holding up a brand new pair of panties with a distinct scowl as he turned them slowly from side to side. 

"They won't fit you," she commented mulishly. "You'd need much bigger panties than I wear."

"Just checking for the date," he grumbled, red-faced, as he dropped the panties onto the untidy pile on the sofa. "They're all different."

Gin wrinkled her nose. "Of course they are. I didn't know what kind would be most comfortable, so I bought different styles to try out so _someone_ can't make fun of my panties anymore."

"I wasn't making fun of your panties," he argued. "I was . . . appreciating them."

"You belittled my panties," she retorted. "You . . . _mocked_ my panties."

Cain tried to look contrite; she had to give him that. Shifting his mouth to the side as he pressed his lips in a line, he cleared his throat and shrugged. "Should I say I'm sorry . . . to your . . . panties?"

Gin rolled her eyes and stomped past him into the kitchen, heading straight for the one cupboard that contained nothing but candy.

"Good _God_, Gin! How much candy do you have stashed up there?"

"There's not that much in there," she argued as she slammed the door closed and ripped open a candy bar wrapper. "Sometimes I just want candy; that's all."

Cain reached around her to peek into the cupboard again. Gin slapped his hand away. "Stay out of my cupboards, Cain!"

He snorted. "I just want to see what all you've got stashed away."

She narrowed her eyes dangerously but had to swallow the candy in her mouth before she could answer. "Don't make me fight you."

"You'd fight me over candy?"

"Yes, I would."

"Why is that?"

Gin shrugged. "My mama wouldn't let me have much candy when I was a pup, so now that I'm living here, I get to eat candy."

"Was there a valid reason for you not to have candy?"

Gin blinked as she finished off the candy bar and grabbed another. "I don't know . . . she used to say that sugar made me hyper."

Cain seemed to be thinking that over. He held out his hand and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Put the candy down very slowly, and step away, Gin."

Gin shook her head.

Cain wiggled his fingers.

Gin narrowed her eyes and uttered a low growl.

Cain's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he laughed. "You're threatening me over candy?"

"It's mine," she informed him. "Get your own."

"Now, Gin, be reasonable . . ."

"I'll bite you if you try to take it," she warned.

Cain chuckled. "You know, you're going to make yourself sick."

"That's an old wives' tale," she argued. "Candy can't make me sick. Papa said that hanyous don't get sick. Ever."

Cain heaved a sigh. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Have you ever been dancing, Cain?"

His amusement ended abruptly, and Gin winced. '_Uh oh . . . It was probably a bad idea to remind him, don't you think?_'

Gin sighed. '_Probably_ . . .'

"A long time ago," he admitted. "Never much cared for the crowds."

"I had fun," she ventured slowly. "I mean, most of the time, I just danced with Bellaniece." Gin made a face as she dropped the empty candy wrappers into the garbage can. "I think it would have been more fun if Kaori hadn't done that . . . thing . . ."

"Who's Kaori?"

"The guy I started dancing with," Gin answered absently as she wiped the counter off with a damp cloth.

"What'd he do?"

Gin tossed the cloth into the sink and frowned up at Cain. "What'd who do?"

"The guy . . . what 'thing' did he do?"

Gin wrinkled her nose and hopped up onto the counter, fiddling with the hem of her pink sundress. "I don't know how to describe it," she said. "He just sort of . . . bumped his hips against me."

"He what?"

She shrugged. "I pushed him kind of hard. I didn't mean to, but he shocked me, I guess . . ."

Cain looked like he was contemplating mayhem. Gin reached out and caught his hand. "Cain . . . would you ever go dancing with me? I mean, I know you don't like crowds and all that . . ."

He sighed. "It's been years since I've danced, Gin. I'd probably step all over your feet."

There was a strange sort of shadow in his eyes, the slight hint of an emotion that she couldn't quite grasp, but his sadness was so real to her that it made her heart ache for him. She tried to smile. "It's all right. It was sort of a stupid idea, anyway."

"It wasn't stupid," he assured her.

Cain was trying to hide his feelings for her sake, she could tell . . . It hurt her. "It's okay. I mean, you wouldn't really want to do that, would you? Go dancing with me? It was a bad idea, wasn't it?"

"No . . . it wasn't. It's just---"

"Really, it's fine. To you, I'm just a silly little girl with . . . ridiculous panties, and---"

"Gin, you don't get it," he cut in with an exasperated sigh. "I wish I _did_ think of you as nothing but a silly little girl."

"I don't understand. What do you mean, you---?"

"Damn it!" Cain moved so fast that Gin gasped. Leaning on the counter with his hands planted beside her knees, he lowered his head to her, covered her lips with his.

Gin sat, frozen, her mind refusing to understand what was happening. Eyes wide open in shock, she couldn't seem to understand anything at all. It was a nice kiss---a _really_ nice kiss. Cain's eyes were closed, and he gently moved his lips against hers as a foreign sense of wonder ebbed through her.

'_Gin! What are you doing?_'

'_Huh?_'

'_Don't just sit there! Cain is kissing you!_'

'_Eh?_'

'_Kiss him back, doll!_'

Gin started to kiss him. He moaned softly and moved in toward her. She leaned back then squealed, tearing her mouth away as she slid off the counter. Cain grunted and jerked upright and winced as Gin accidentally ground her heel into his foot. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"No, it's okay," he told her.

Gin wrung her hands. "I'm such a klutz!"

"I think I'll live."

She sighed and stepped back, unsure what to say as the silence grew thicker, heavier. She frowned.

"Gin, I---"

"You want to see what I bought today?" Gin broke in, sure he was about to apologize for kissing her. She didn't want him to do that. Careening around and hurrying toward the living room, she forced herself to sound cheerful, teasing, as she added, "I mean, you already _saw_ my panties . . ."

Cain sighed. "Okay, sure," he agreed as he followed her toward the sofa.

Gin held up the black dress and gazed expectantly at him. "What do you think? Sophisticated? Elegant? Sexy?" She giggled. "I think those were the words Bellaniece used . . . maybe not sexy though . . ."

For some reason, Cain looked slightly irritated. "What else did my daughter say?"

Gin's eyes widened, and she dropped the dress over the back of the sofa, giggling softly as she carefully lifted the gauzy white dress from the garment box. "I don't really think I'll wear this anywhere, but . . . It'd look really nice with the wings."

Cain stared at the dress for several seconds, a thoughtful light brightening his gaze.

Gin held it up to her shoulders. "Bellaniece said that the dress reminded her of a fairy princess from her story books."

"Yeah, I guess so . . . I painted one of her walls back home: a giant mural of a fairy kingdom, with Princess Bellaniece standing on the battlements of the Fairy King's castle . . . Her dress looked a lot like that one."

"Wow . . . You really love her."

"Sure. She's my daughter."

Gin nodded, staring down at the dress. "Some day I'll show you this dress with the wings."

Cain smiled. "I'd like that."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_Woof_.

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	22. Regret

**_Chapter 22_**

**_Regret

* * *

_**

"_Why else would I do something as stupid as kiss_ you?"

Kichiro groaned as he let his head drop back against the rough tree bark and stared up at the unfurling leaves above him. His anger had dissipated about the time he stepped outside of the apartment building, and what he was left with was ugly, bitter---the gnawing ache of recrimination. '_I . . . oh hell, I was an ass, wasn't I?_'

'_Just a little,_' his youkai replied with a snort.

Yeah, so that was a bit of an understatement on his part. He'd been a _huge_ ass. He hadn't meant to . . . He should have left right away, but no, he had to stop and think, and . . .

_Stopping at the base of the stairwell and stalking the floor as he heaved a sigh and dug his hands into his pockets, Kichiro wanted to go back to Gin's apartment; wanted to take her home for the night since she'd been upset enough when he'd left her. Something about Gin could always make him feel like a complete jerk whenever he tried to tell her that she was going to get hurt. Maybe it was her eyes_ . . .

_He'd been trying to figure out a way to ask Gin to go with him since she'd probably overact if he just said, 'Get your stuff, you're coming with me.' He hadn't meant it that way, anyway. Their father had called a tournament for the following afternoon, and since Gin would be going to that, Kichiro had just thought maybe she could use the calm of the forest to think things through_.

_But he couldn't shake that hot swell of rage that had gripped his insides when he'd walked into that club only to see the young man dragging his sister around. It had been drilled into his head over the years: protect Gin . . . watch out for Gin . . . be careful with Gin . . . It had become second nature_.

_Then Belle_ . . .

He hadn't expected Belle to come back downstairs. Why had it bothered him even more, that she would rather sit on the steps and pretend she wasn't there than to come down and face him? It wasn't like her. Belle wasn't a coward; reckless, foolish even, but never a coward.

Then she'd stared at him, her gaze unfaltering as she refused to back down after he called her out. Her hair had caught the dim light of the electric bulbs, but the way she'd stared at him . . . Either it had simply been too damn long since he'd kissed anyone, or Belle really was special. How he could have felt so much in that brief moment when he'd stopped fighting the need to kiss her and had let himself go perplexed him. He felt as if he had been as close to having everything he'd ever wanted, and then . . .

He shook his head and closed his eyes for a second.

And then he'd pushed her away.

What had he really been after, when he asked her why she'd followed him? What did he really expect? He wasn't stupid enough to think that she was about to tell him that she'd chased him down in hopes that he really would kiss her, was he?

Maybe he was.

'So, she hurts your pride, so you have to crush her completely? Is that how it works?'

It hadn't taken him long to realize the magnitude of his mistake. The hurt in her eyes, the sudden wariness as she slowly backed away from him . . .

'_I didn't mean to . . . Damn, I shouldn't have lashed out at her . . . not for that kiss_ . . .'

'_No, you really shouldn't have_,' his youkai agreed. '_Not when you wanted it as much---if not more---than she did_.'

Kichiro winced. The truth hurt.

Something about Belle set him off every single time. She was beautiful and infuriating, gentle and tough, too. Everything about her was a paradox. She didn't have the sense to run when he tried to tell her to. She had too much courage for her own good, and the combination was lethal. A woman like her was nothing but trouble. She could twist a man inside out and never even realize how many victims she left in her wake.

'_Interesting. She sounds a lot like you used to be_.'

He really had been like that, hadn't he? All his escapades with Ryomaru had seemed so innocent at the time. How many girls had they left behind, wondering if they would call or hoping they'd see the twins again? Kichiro's ears flattened. Belle didn't really have a thing on them. They had been worse than she could ever hope to be, because they'd known at the time what they were doing.

'_You know, I think you're angrier that Belle was at that club than you are that Gin was with her_.'

'_That's crap,_' Kichiro grumbled.

'_Not at all. Gin might not belong there, but you know that she really can hold her own. You just don't want her to have to do that, which is fine, but Belle . . . Belle does stuff first, before she can think her actions through. She's too free spirited, and that's what bothers you the most_.'

'_Maybe_.'

'_Maybe? Admit it, Kich. You hate the idea that you might have been too late, not only to rescue Gin, but to rescue Belle, too_.'

'_Belle does nothing but irritate me. I think she _tries_ to irritate me. I think she goes _out of her way_ to irritate me_.'

'_And you don't do the same to her? Actually, I think you're nastier to her than she could ever be to you . . . and let's not forget that most of the time, you're the one who instigates it_.'

'_I don't do anything of the sort_.'

'_Don't bullshit me! You do. You_ always _do_.'

Kichiro sighed. He really did, didn't he? It wasn't enough, to leave it alone. He had to seek her out, had to make her feel just a little worse.

'_Balls, you know, you nearly knocked her down because you kissed her, and then_---'

'_I don't need the rehash. I was there, remember?_'

'_I think you do. You hate the idea that you kissed her because you wanted to, and you hate the idea more that you just might have to admit to yourself that you don't despise her, after all_.'

'_I never said I despised her_.'

'_Not in those words, no . . . You've been so hell-bent on belittling everything about her to bother saying that you despise her_.'

The night air was stagnant, vacant, and Kichiro let his unseeing gaze fall on the empty house he couldn't stand to enter. He'd noticed before, how lonely the place was. He didn't want to think about why it bothered him more lately than it ever had before.

'_Anyway, it shouldn't matter, right? I mean, she's infuriating, insulting, temperamental, not to mention_---'

'_Beautiful, confident, intelligent, playful . . . and she's got a damn fine rack_.'

Kichiro made a face, digging his claws into the thick branch below him. '. . . _Yeah, there's that, too_ . . .'

'_So you did notice!_'

'_Never said I didn't_.'

'_You really upset her, if it matters_.'

He winced. '_It does_.'

'_Why should it? You don't_ like _her, remember?_'

'_But I didn't mean to do that, either_.'

'_Which? Kiss her or upset her?_'

'_Upset her, of course! I was . . . I was . . . I don't know why I reacted like that_.'

'_You do. You just don't want to admit that, either_.'

Kichiro didn't answer that.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin sat on her knees in front of the coffee table with a scowl of intense concentration furrowing her brow as she worked the nondescript lump of clay. "I don't think I've got steady enough hands to do this," she remarked dubiously.

Cain shrugged and leaned over her shoulder to inspect her work. "You know, you could do this later . . . tomorrow . . . whenever your sugar rush wears off."

Gin waved her hand to shush him and giggled when she wiped clay on his nose on accident. "I feel really creative, though! You did say that I should work when the inspiration hit me."

Cain nodded, wishing he hadn't said that just before all the candy in Gin's system kicked in. The transformation had been startling. One minute, she was calm, ebullient little Gin, and the next she was practically bouncing off the walls. Launching into a discussion on inspirations and theory behind his artwork, Cain hadn't had to do much more than nod every now and then whenever Gin would pause to catch her breath.

'_So . . . Gin and candy aren't exactly a great combination_.'

Cain wiped the clay off his nose with the back of his hand and grinned. '_It could be worse. She's calmed down a little_.'

'_Yeah . . . it's nearly two in the morning. I hope she's calmed down_.'

"What do you think?" Gin asked as she sat back, cocking her head from side to side as she gazed at the sorry-looking mound of clay.

Cain opened and closed his mouth a few times. "What . . . is it?"

"I don't know," she replied with a shrug. "I mean, I just did what you said: I just worked until it felt finished."

"And that's what you came up with?"

She narrowed her gaze and wrinkled her nose. "If you stare at it and tilt your head this way, it sort of starts looking like a bear . . . maybe . . ."

Leaning back on his hands, Cain tried to be objective.

Gin caught the expression on his face and shrugged. "Try squinting."

He followed her suggestion and slowly shook his head. "Okay . . . he looks a little . . . ticked off," he commented, poking a claw at what he assumed to be the bear's head.

"That's not his face," Gin told him. "That's his paw."

"Is it? Oh, I see . . ."

Gin snorted. "You don't really see it, do you?"

"Not so much, no."

She giggled. "Do you suppose I'll get better at this?"

"Sure, but maybe next time you should try it _before_ you eat all the candy in a hundred mile radius."

Her ears twitched as she wrinkled her nose and carefully turned the sorry looking sculpture on the spinning pedestal. Quirking at the slightest sound, those appendages fascinated Cain. '_They look really soft, don't they?_' he mused.

'_Yeah, they do. Suppose they are?_'

As if she heard his internal dialogue, her ears twisted almost completely backward, monitoring his movements. Without stopping to think it through, he sat up and reached for those fuzzy little ears.

Gin uttered a strangled gasp, hands decimating the lump of clay that had been her bear sculpture as her back stiffened, and she sat up straight. Cain barely had time to pull his hands away from her head and cover his face before part of the once-proud bear smashed against his hands. The clay thumped on the floor with a dull squish, and Cain laughed as Gin launched another hunk at him.

"What'd I do?" he asked between chuckles, lowering his hands to peek and managing to block another lump of flying clay.

"You touched my ears!" she retorted.

"I'm sorry; I'm sorry!" he assured her. "I take it you don't like that?"

Gin snorted and mashed clay on his hands. "Of course not!" she grumbled.

Cain scooped up some clay and tossed it at the disgruntled hanyou. She squealed and ducked but caught the clay on her shoulder. "Oi! You're not supposed to fight back!"

He snorted. "Pfft! Like I'm going to let you bombard me with clay," he scoffed. "Bring it on, baby girl."

"Oh, it's on, all right," Gin growled in mock anger and flung another handful of clay at him. Cain ducked and winced as it hit the wall, lingering for a second before it slowly slid down the white wall leaving a reddish-brown streak before it plopped onto the hardwood floor behind him.

"Damn., you're making one hell of a mess, Gin," he pointed out as he ducked more flying clay.

"Yeah, I think you should help me clean it up since you made me throw it," she shot back, leaning to the side to avoid his retaliatory attack.

"And I think you should do it yourself, since you're the one who can't stand to have her ears touched."

Gin made a face as she scooped up a handful of clay and whipped around. Cain covered his face, and Gin took advantage of the situation to tug his shirt and drop the clammy mess between the material and his skin. He tried to twist away from her. She mashed her hands against his chest, smearing the clay all over him in the process.

Gin pushed herself onto her hands and knees to crawl away as he broke into a low growl, but Cain grabbed her and pulled her back against his chest, one arm around her shoulders to hold her in place as she kicked her feet and giggled helplessly. "All right!" she gasped as she twisted from side to side and pushed at his arm in a futile effort to escape. "I'm sorry!"

"Too late," he told her as he daubed a line of clay down her forehead to the tip of her nose.

"Really sorry!" she giggled.

"You don't sound sorry," he remarked, mimicking the lines on her cheeks.

"Cain!"

"Say, 'I'll never smear clay on you again'," he ordered.

Gin laughed. "You'll never smear clay on me again."

He rolled his eyes but chuckled as she grabbed his wrist in both her hands and tried to hold him off. "Okay . . . 'Gin will never smear clay on Cain again'."

"Yeah, that," she agreed.

"No, I think you need to say it."

She squealed again when he drew a couple more lines on each cheek. "Fine, you bully!" she hollered. "Gin will never smear clay on Cain again!"

Satisfied that she'd keep her promise, Cain loosened his hold on her. "Good enough."

Gin giggled a little longer, clutching her stomach as she alternated between giggles and moans, but she didn't try to sit up. "My stomach hurts," she complained. More giggling ruined the effect of the mock pout on her face. "Oww . . ."

"Told you not to eat so much candy," he gloated.

She snorted. "It wasn't the candy . . . it's just been awhile since I've laughed that hard."

"Really? I always thought you were happy enough."

"Sure," she agreed. "I am. It's just been awhile since I've laughed like that, is all."

"Hmm, when's the last time?" Cain asked as he grimaced and peeked down his shirt at the damage. '_Oh, hell . . . I can't see any skin_.'

'_Yeah, call it collateral damage. Look at the way her eyes are glowing_.'

Cain peeked at her and caught his breath at the brightness of her gaze, the pleasant flush of her skin beneath the streaks of clay on her cheeks. He had to restrain the urge to kiss her again. '_Damn_ . . .'

Gin sighed and finally sat up, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees. "I don't really remember . . . I mean, I've laughed a lot, but . . ."

He managed a weak smile as he forced his gaze away from her. Did she have to look so damn cute despite the clay covering her face? Or was it because of that? Cain grimaced inwardly as Gin yawned. "Wow . . . I'm really tired."

'_She's coming down off that sugar rush, Cain_.'

'_What? Oh, yeah_ . . .'

'_Are you listening to me?_'

Cain made a face. '_Of course I am. I sort of have to, don't I_?'

'_Like you've never ignored me before_.'

Gin sighed again. "Ugh, I need another bath now," she grumbled. "I'd rather just crawl into bed . . ."

Cain chuckled then flinched as he surveyed the splattered clay all over the room. "Tell you what: you go get cleaned up, and I'll . . . I'll see what I can do about this mess."

"No, it's my fault. I can get it . . . maybe in the morning."

"By morning this stuff will be permanently stuck. It's fine, Gin. Go on."

"You sure?"

Cain nodded. Gin smiled and leaned toward him, brushing a soft kiss over his clay-splattered face. He tried to hide his blush as she got up and stumbled off to the bathroom.

'_She's really something_.'

Cain took a deep breath and stood up to find the cleaning supplies. '_Yeah, she is_.'

'_You know . . . I really want to like her_.'

He smiled almost sadly, remembering the sweetness of the kiss that never should have happened. Gin had been so stunned, she hadn't reacted, and when she finally had . . .

'_That . . . isn't possible_,' he told himself. '_Gin . . . Gin's a beautiful dream. That's all she can ever really be_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle rested her forehead against the cool glass window as she stared at the hands of the clock on her nightstand.

She felt strangely numb, almost empty---as empty as the bedroom she sat in. A bed, a bureau, and a closet, but nothing personal, nothing that marked the room as being hers . . .

"_Why decorate when we won't be here that long?" she'd asked Cain when he had suggested she buy some things for her room. "Only six months, right? That's not long enough to bother_."

"_True as that may be," he had agreed, rubbing his chin as he shrugged and leaned over the morning paper. "You've never really been away from home before. Just thought it'd help you adjust_."

Belle had laughed at him.

It had seemed like an adventure of sorts, back then. Sure, she knew that working for Kichiro wouldn't be easy since he had seemed to despise her at first sight, but . . .

'_But I stupidly thought that maybe he'd change his mind, once he got to know me, or that he would at least stop being so nasty_ . . .'

She sighed, propping her elbow on her raised knee and cupping her forehead in her hand as she closed her eyes. They were puffy, feverish. She'd cried longer than she wanted to admit, even to herself, under the cover of the falling streams of water in the shower. She was all cried out now. '_Maybe I should have tried harder to convince Daddy to let me stay behind and start college_.'

'_Do you think that would have changed things, Belle?_'

'_You . . . You've been conspicuously quiet since . . . Why is that?_'

'_I didn't think you'd welcome my advice_.'

Belle snorted a harsh laugh. '_No, I don't think I would have_.'

'_You_ . . . we _didn't really deserve that. What Kichiro said_---"

'_Don't talk about him, all right? Don't even_ think _about him_.'

'_Belle_---'

'_No! Maybe I do deserve most of the blame for tonight at the club, but he . . . I don't want to talk about it anymore_.'

'. . . _Okay_.'

The sudden wave of loneliness that shot through her made her wince, and Belle uncurled herself from the window seat and shuffled to the door. It had been such a long time since she'd felt like this. Completely alone, lost, even a little afraid, she moved instinctively toward the one place where she'd always found a measure of comfort before. She lifted her hand to tap on her father's door but winced when she realized that he wasn't there. The apartment felt empty, void, and she didn't have to search to know that he was still with Gin.

She considered going over there for a moment before discarding that idea. Maybe it was better this way. She didn't want her father to see her like this, did she? She couldn't stand to let him see her upset. The irrational fear of adding to Cain's troubles welled up in her, and Belle forced the emotion back with a brutality borne of sheer determination.

'_We don't have to tell him, you know. Maybe if we just borrow something of his . . .?_'

Before she could talk herself out of it, Belle pushed the door open and stared around the darkened room.

Cain's scent was comforting to her, and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting her father's aura calm her.

'_One of his shirts. That ought to do it. It'll smell like him, and that's enough, right?_'

Belle nodded and headed for his closet, intending to grab the first shirt she touched. Something else caught her attention, though, and she narrowed her gaze. The thin light of the wan night fell in an elongated line across the floor. Trapped in the slight pale, the shimmering fur that she knew so well: Cain's Mokomoko-sama.

He'd wrapped her up in it too many times to count, and remembering those times made her smile. Without another thought, she pulled it out of the closet and quietly stole back to her bedroom as she wrapped the thick fur around herself. The comfort it offered was immediate, heartening. Too bad it couldn't heal the abrasions that Kichiro's words had left on her pride---on her soul.

Belle curled up on her bed, sighing as she blinked at the deep shadows dancing over the ceiling. '_Sometimes . . . sometimes I wish Mother had lived_.'

'_Yeah_ . . .'

If she had lived, would Isabelle have been able to explain why Kichiro had said what he'd said? Would Belle have felt comfortable enough to talk to her about it? Even if she could have explained, was there really an excuse for his behavior?

She sighed and snuggled in the familiar reassurance of the Mokomoko-sama. It didn't really do any good, to wish for things that were impossible. She'd learned that from her father. All his moments of pensive silence, all the times when his thoughts had seemed to take him to a time and place where Belle wasn't allowed . . . She'd seen him staring off into space with a vacant sort of look, with a sadness in his gaze, and she had known somehow, even as a little girl, that he had been thinking about Isabelle. Whatever thoughts he had of her always made him sad, and his sadness had become hers over the years. His melancholy had reached her, scarred her. She couldn't remember a time when he wasn't there.

'_But he isn't here tonight, and that's a good thing because he'd demand that you tell him what's made you so upset. He'd ask questions, and he'd want answers . . . and those answers . . . They wouldn't make him happy_.'

Belle squeezed her eyes closed and buried her face in the soft bronze colored fur. '_Kichiro Izayoi will never hurt me again,_' she told herself, chanted in her mind, over and over again. '_He won't hurt me because I . . . I won't let him._'

'_Will it be as simple as that?_'

Belle grimaced and tried to force him from her thoughts. '_Yes, it is_.'

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_A bear, huh _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	23. Anxiety

**_Chapter 23_**

**_Anxiety

* * *

_**

Cain poured himself a cup of coffee and yawned as he shook his head.

He'd stayed over at Gin's apartment way too late last night, but she'd been entirely too entertaining to resist.

_It had taken much longer to clean her apartment than he had thought it would, and by the time he was finished, Gin was shuffling out of the bathroom with a huge yawn and a wave of damp air. She stopped in the hallway and stretched, hands balled into fists as she reached over her head and arched her back, hips shifting to the side as she rose up on her toes with a soft groan. The form-fitting pale pink tank top lifted with the movement, and Cain had stared, transfixed, as the smooth, creamy skin of her stomach peeked out at him_.

_Letting her arms drop with a sharp exhalation, Gin blinked a few times before grinning almost dreamily and stumbling into the living room to hug him. "G-Gin . . . you're going to get dirty again," he rasped out_.

_Gin giggled. "It's okay. You looked like you could use a hug._"

_He smiled and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. "Did I?_"

"_Uh huh _. . ."

_She yawned again, and Cain chuckled. "Come on, baby girl. You're tired_."

"_Hmm, yeah," she agreed, "but you're comfortable_."

_He'd let her hold onto him another moment as he tried not to think about how natural holding her felt before stepping back with a sigh_.

_Gin hadn't complained when he took her hand to pull her down the hallway to her bedroom and stepped side as he gestured for her to enter_.

_She padded over to her bed and lay down. He watched with a little grin as she arranged her covers and snuggled down in her pillow. "Cain?" she whispered as he turned to leave_.

"_Yes?_"

"_I'm glad you don't think of me . . . as a little girl_ . . ."

_Cain winced. "Yeah," he agreed. "Good night, Gin_."

"_Night," she murmured_.

The soft scuff of Bellaniece's soft footsteps drew him out of his memories, and Cain smiled at his daughter. "Morning, Bellaniece. You sleep all right?"

Bellaniece shrugged and stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. "Sure," she answered.

Cain frowned at the noticeable shadows under her eyes. "You okay?"

She grinned, and the shadows dissipated. "Of course, Daddy. Did you have a good time over at Gin's?"

Cain buried his face in the newspaper. "Uh, yeah, it was fine."

"You know, you're really cute when you blush," she pointed out as she cut a thick slice of cake and sat down at the table.

"Eat your breakfast," he grumbled.

Tapping on the door interrupted Bellaniece's reply, and Cain breathed a sigh of relief as he strode around the counter to answer it. He started to smile at the girl in the doorway, but Gin grabbed his hand and tugged as he shook his head in confusion. Dressed in the baggy pink shorts and light pink tank top that she'd worn to bed with her hair mussed and tangled, she looked like she'd just rolled out of bed. "Cain, oh please, you have to help me!"

"Gin, what's wrong?" he asked, careful to keep his tone even despite her near-hysteria. "Calm down, okay?"

Gin winced and wrung her hands as she drew a deep breath. "I went out to get my paper---it's normally just outside my door, but it was a little further away, and I didn't think it would, but the door closed, and I'm locked out . . ." She uttered a soft little whine as her ears flattened against her head. "Can you help me? Please? I'll do anything! I'll get down on my knees and beg, if you want---_anything_---just please open my door!"

Bellaniece coughed suddenly as Cain choked. Gin whimpered. "It's just that we're having a tournament at Papa's house, my Kusarigama is in my apartment, and, well, I'm not really dressed to go over there . . ."

"Is your window open?" he asked, ignoring Bellaniece's near-wheezing behind him as his cheeks reddened a little more.

"Yeah."

Cain didn't wait for her to continue. Turning on his heel and striding over to the window, he didn't miss a step as his body dissolved into the energy form, and he flew out the window then around to Gin's apartment.

'_You should have told her, Cain_.'

'_Told her what?_' he thought as he solidified in mid-stride in her living room.

'_You should have told her that she did it again---said something without thinking about how it sounded_.'

'_She was already upset_,' he argued as he snapped the deadbolt lock and yanked the door open only to find himself stumbling back a few steps when Gin launched herself into his arms again.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, _thank you, thank you!_" she gushed, her body quaking against his though he couldn't tell if it was from the panic brought on by the idea that she'd locked herself out again or because of her absolute happiness that he'd 'rescued' her. He wanted to believe it was because of the latter reason . . .

"It's okay," he assured her.

"I'll bake you a really special cake later, I swear!" she promised. "A _huge_ one!"

He laughed. "It's fine."

"No, it isn't! If you weren't here, I don't know what I'd have done! You . . . you're my hero!"

Cain's smile faltered, and he gently grasped Gin's arms, setting her back at arm's length. "I'm not a hero, Gin."

She shrugged and tugged on his arm to bend him down so she could kiss his cheek. "A real hero is the last one to know," she quipped. "Anyway, I'd better get ready, but . . . I'll make supper for you after the tournament. How's that?"

"Yeah, okay," he agreed.

He turned to go. Gin called after him. "Cain?"

"Hmm?"

She started to speak but made a face as she shifted from one foot to the other in a decidedly nervous manner. "Do you think . . . would it be all right if I asked Bellaniece to come with me? I know you didn't really get along with my brother last night, but I swear, he's not normally like that, and . . . and I'd like her to meet my family."

Cain shrugged and tried not to let his expression register the distaste he couldn't help but feel for Gin's family. Between her brother and her father, he was fairly sure he didn't want to meet the third male member of the Izayoi family, and he tried not to think about just why it was that he'd never, ever felt the desire to tear into anyone quite as strongly as he did both InuYasha and his equally annoying pup, Kichiro. "Who else will be there?"

Gin scrunched up her shoulders. "Well, my sister-in-law, Nezumi . . . my cousin Toga, and his wife---you met Sierra already . . . My aunt and uncle might be there, if Papa's badgered him into fighting, and if Uncle Sesshoumaru comes, then Rin and Shippou might, too . . . and of course, Mama and Papa . . ."

"Sesshoumaru, huh . . . All right," Cain agreed slowly. "I'll send Bellaniece over."

"You could . . . but you're probably busy, aren't you?"

Cain grimaced. He wasn't really busy, no, but given that he'd dearly love to have a go at InuYasha and Kichiro both, he figured it wasn't a good idea. "I was going to work today," he replied.

Gin nodded. "Yeah, okay. I just thought . . . Anyway, I promise Bellaniece will be perfectly safe."

Cain forced a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder as he pulled the door closed behind him. Gin waved. He smiled.

"Did you get Gin's door unlocked?" Bellaniece asked as she perused the opened newspaper on the counter.

"Yup," Cain answered as he ambled into the apartment.

Bellaniece nodded. "I see . . . So . . . did she do it?"

"Do what?"

She cleared her throat. "Did she . . . get down on her knees to thank you?"

The flush that shot into Cain's cheeks was immediate and intense. "You're grounded," he grumbled as he jammed his hands into his pockets and headed for the hallway.

Bellaniece laughed. "Grounded from what?" she asked, trailing after him.

Cain shook his head. "No more soap operas," he growled.

"Oh, Daddy . . . I don't watch television, you know, and it was the natural question, given what Gin said."

"I'm not discussing anything of the sort with you, Bellaniece."

"Maybe you should have reminded her," Bellaniece added.

Cain rolled his eyes. "Gin wants to know if you want to go with her. Her family's having a tournament or something."

"Oh, that sounds intriguing . . . what sort of tournament?"

Cain shrugged. "Fighting, I suppose. Go ask her."

"Hmm . . . I have the feeling you're trying to get rid of me," Bellaniece mused.

"Would I do that?"

She snorted. "Yes, you would. I'll just go ask Gin---"

"Do it, and I swear I'll beat you."

Bellaniece kissed his cheek, ignoring his empty threat as her laughter lingered in her wake, and she finally, mercifully, left him alone.

'_One of these days, Gin's going to be the ruin of us_.'

The wonder in Gin's expression after their brief kiss ended was entirely too stark an image for him to ignore. Reaching out to steady himself against the wall, he closed his eyes as he willed the vision away.

Cain heaved a sigh as he yanked the supply closet door open and rummaged around for a new canvas and paints. '_Yeah_,' he agreed almost wistfully. '_Yeah, she is_.'

* * *

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* * *

"Something's bothering you," Kagome said quietly as she sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

Kichiro glared at the teacup in his hands and shrugged. "Not really."

Kagome shook her head. "Don't give me that! I'm your mother, remember? I can tell when there's something on your mind. You've got that sad sort of expression like you used to whenever you thought you weren't quite good enough at something you tried to do."

"It's not like that," he argued. "It's not a big deal."

"If it wasn't a big deal, you'd tell me."

Sighing when Kichiro remained silent, Kagome stood up and grabbed his hand. He shot her a questioning look. She tugged. "Come on. It's time for you and me to go for a walk."

He knew better than to argue with his mother. Kagome might be a gentle woman at heart, but if she thought that he wasn't being completely honest with her, he knew from experience that the same easy going mother he knew could also rant with the best of them, like his father, for example . . . Even the formidable inu-hanyou knew better than to argue with his mate . . .

The morning sky was lovely, vibrant, touched by the soft breeze that smelled of sakura blossoms. Kagome didn't speak right away, content to let Kichiro gather his thoughts before she pressed him for more information.

He'd been awake when Kagome had called this morning. Unable to sleep more than a few minutes between tossing and turning, between the sickening feeling that he was lower than pond scum and the irritation that he even cared at all, Kichiro had finally fallen asleep sometime during the wee hours of the morning only to wake again just before the sun rose. When Kagome called an hour later to invite him over for breakfast, he had known that she thought there was something bothering him.

"So are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" Kagome finally asked.

Kichiro shrugged as he straightened the collar of the dark purple practice haori. Fashioned after his father's old fire rat clothes, Kichiro and Ryomaru both had the outfits: Kichiro's was purple, and Ryomaru's was blue. Gin normally wore InuYasha's fire rat clothes despite the way they hung off her tiny frame, and the twins had learned long ago, not to tease their sister. As sweet as Gin usually was, she could fight with the best of them when she felt she had something to prove.

"I'm just fine," he assured her. "Nothing bothering me, at all."

"I see," Kagome said. Kichiro kept walking. "I miss the days when you used to tell me everything," she ventured. "Have things really changed so much?"

"Not really, but there are times when I can't go running to you, you know. Did you still go to Grandma when you were my age?"

Kagome giggled. "It might interest you to know that I still go to your grandmother for advice all the time."

"It's fine, Mama. I was just thinking; that's all. I do that sometimes . . . maybe not as much as I should have been lately, but what can you do?"

"Oh, I get it . . . so what's her name?"

"Who says it's a woman?"

Kagome laughed gently, laying her hand on Kichiro's arm as they strolled along the forest path. "Give me a little credit, will you? Now tell me her name. Do I know her?"

Kichiro sighed. "No, Mama, you don't know her."

"Is she pretty?"

His answer was another sigh, and Kagome clucked her tongue as she slowly shook her head. "That pretty, huh?"

"It's not that. It's not what you think. I don't really know what it is."

"Sounds like this girl has really gotten to you."

"Of course not."

"You're sure?"

"Yep."

"Okay."

Kichiro brushed the hair out of his face since he hadn't bothered to braid it. "You ever misjudge someone then figure out later that you made a mistake?"

Kagome sighed. "I wouldn't be human if I hadn't done that. It's not pleasant, but it happens. Then you apologize to the person you hurt, and with any luck, they'll forgive you, and that'll be that."

"Sounds pretty easy."

"It doesn't have to be difficult. You're still talking about this girl, aren't you?"

"I don't know why," Kichiro admitted. "The first time I met her, I thought . . . I thought she was the same as all the other women who come into my office. I thought she was going to be petty and shallow---"

"Hmm, doesn't sound good."

"She's conceited and impetuous, childish and temperamental . . . She doesn't think about anything at all; she just does whatever she pleases without any regard for propriety---"

"She's that bad?"

"She's all those things . . . but sometimes . . . sometimes . . ." He sighed and let his head fall back, staring at the swaying branches of the trees, looking for answers that eluded him. "Sometimes she looks so sad . . ."

"Does she have any good qualities?"

Kichiro's ears flattened for a moment, and he shrugged. "She's got a beautiful smile," he admitted. "When she smiles, she makes me want to smile, too."

"How old is she?"

He winced. "Seventeen."

"Oh . . . I see."

"See what?"

Kagome tilted her head and grinned. "Sometimes youth can be mistaken for a lot of the things you mentioned. Sometimes conceit is really nothing more than self-confidence. Maybe you need a little more impetuousness in your life, Kichiro. It seems to me that you've forgotten how you used to be."

"Mama---"

Kagome stopped abruptly, pressed her fingers to Kichiro's lips to silence him. "What happened to you? You didn't used to be this cynical and . . . jaded. You were the little boy who always brought me flowers and helped me arrange them in a vase. You used to believe in people. Has everything changed so much?"

Kichiro nodded as Kagome let her hand fall away. "Maybe I've changed."

"Maybe you have," she said with a sad shake of her head. "Or maybe you still want to believe, at least in this girl."

Kichiro's gaze fell away. He wasn't sure how to answer Kagome's questions. Belle's face flashed through his mind, and he grimaced. The question haunted him. Was she worth it?

"You said she has a beautiful smile, right?"

"Yeah," he answered with a sigh.

"Maybe that's your answer. Maybe if you concentrated on making her smile that other stuff would seem a little less significant, don't you think?"

Kichiro digested that as Kagome took his hand and led him along the looping trail that ended in the Izayoi's back yard.

'_Concentrate on making her smile, huh,_' his youkai remarked.

'_Okay, but . . . How do I do that?_'

'_It can't be that hard, Kich . . . you used to charm the pants off women all the time---literally_.'

'_That's not even funny_,' he pointed out.

'_It doesn't have to be funny. Just try to remember how you did that._'

Kichiro sighed. It sounded just a little too easy, but he supposed he could give it a try . . .

* * *

**_A/N_**:

C_ain left his sword back home; he has his Mokomoko-sama with him_.

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kagome_**:

_Interesting … I wonder who she is _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	24. Girl Talk

**_Chapter 24_**

**_Girl Talk

* * *

_**

Belle shook her head slowly as she stared at Gin's anxious expression. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea," she ventured at last, carefully choosing her words.

"Oh, please! Mama and Papa will love you, I'm sure, and Kichiro . . . well, he can get over himself! Besides, you have to meet my cousin Toga and his wife. They have two cute little girls, and Sierra's pregnant again. Nezumi'll like you, too!"

"Gin, seeing your brother is just asking for more trouble. He'll probably think I was there just to thwart him."

"Kich was being a jerk, that's all. I'm sorry about that . . . it was all my fault, and---"

"It's okay. He doesn't really like me anyway, so there's no real harm done."

Gin sighed and sank down on the sofa. "Did the beer wash out of your dress?"

"What, that old thing? It doesn't matter, even if it doesn't," she assured Gin.

Gin's face clouded over as she slowly shook her head and peeked at Belle through her eyelashes. "That girl . . . she did it on purpose, didn't she? Spilled her drink on you . . ."

Belle shrugged. "Maybe. Probably. It's okay."

"No, it wasn't. Why would she do that?"

"Sometimes girls are mean that way. I don't worry about it."

"But that doesn't make sense. Why would someone go out of their way to do that?"

"Maybe she was jealous or something. Maybe she was in a bad mood. It doesn't matter, does it? It's over and done with now. So tell me about this tournament," she asked, more to change the subject than because she really wanted to know. The pitying look on Gin's face . . . Belle couldn't stand to be pitied.

Though she didn't look like she wanted to 'drop it', Gin looked like she did understand why Belle might want to. She wiggled her shoulders and smiled. "Sometimes Papa gets irritated if he thinks the twins aren't keeping up with their training, so he'll call these tournaments to test them and see if they've been slacking off," Gin explained. "They're a lot of fun, even just watching . . . they don't always let me fight," she confessed.

Belle nodded. It seemed rather strange, to call a fighting tournament for what amounted to no reason at all.

'_Gin doesn't really understand certain things, does she?_'

'_No, she doesn't. She's too cute, too happy. Who'd have ever done to Gin what that girl did to me?_'

Belle was used to it, sort of. She was used to girls and their petty, vindictive ways. She'd been the recipient of that sort of behavior a lot over the years. Feeding off their insecurities and jealousies, other girls sought to put her down and make her the brunt of their jokes. She'd had a few girl friends growing up, but most of her friends were boys, and Belle didn't mind that; not at all.

'_Pay attention, Belle! Gin's waiting for an answer!_'

Belle snapped out of her reverie only to find Gin staring at her expectantly. "So, what do you think? Will you come with me?"

Belle sighed. "Gin . . ."

"Please?"

"I doubt your brother---"

"My brother was totally over the edge last night, and he took it out on you. I really think you'll have fun! You don't even have to pay attention to Kich, and if he even _looks_ at you, I'll make sure he's sorry . . ."

Belle had to laugh at the sheer determination on Gin's face, and she just had to laugh. "I've never had a friend like you, Gin."

"Does that mean you'll come with me?"

Belle bit her lip and sighed again. "Yeah, I'll go with you."

Gin squealed happily and lunged at Belle, catching her in an exuberant hug. "We should teach you how to fight," Gin commented as she sat back and clapped her hands. "Then you can kick Kich's heinie yourself."

Belle giggled as Gin stood up and grabbed her hand, dragging her toward the door and only pausing to grab her backpack off the floor.

'_Teach me how to fight?_' Belle thought with an inward giggle. '_Daddy would have a fit_ . . .'

* * *

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* * *

"Mama, this is Belle. Belle, this is my mother, Kagome," Gin introduced as they stepped into the Izayoi house. 

Kagome kissed Gin's cheek and shook Belle's hand. "Belle? What's your last name?"

"Zelig," Belle supplied. "Actually, my father doesn't like for me to go by 'Belle'. My name's Bellaniece."

Kagome's eyes widened, and she looked like she finally understood something. "Your father is the North American tai-youkai . . . the artist?"

Belle nodded as Gin tried not to fidget. "Yes, that's him."

Kichiro and Ryomaru slammed the door. Ryomaru was trying to grab Kichiro's nipple, and Kichiro was trying to shove Ryomaru away. Gin rolled her eyes and sighed. "Oi, Ryo! Knock it off, baka!"

"Get the hell off me!" Kichiro growled. "Damn it, I---Belle . . . _ow!_"

Ryomaru chortled as he let go of his sibling's nipple and stomped off toward the living room.

Belle wedged her right thumbnail under the left index finger claw and worried on her lower lip, blushing slightly as she avoided Kichiro's gaze.

"What are you doing here?" Kichiro asked, ignoring both his sister as well as his mother, who were both watching with varying degrees of interest.

"I invited her," Gin spoke up with a warning scowl, "and she's staying."

Kichiro stiffened, and Gin wondered if he had forgotten that she was even there. "Of course you did, and I figured as much. If you'll excuse me."

Gin winced, and Belle's blush darkened as Kichiro strode away.

Kagome cleared her throat loudly and sighed. "Belle, can I ask you something?"

Belle nodded jerkily once.

Kagome smiled. "How old are you?"

She looked confused but slowly answered. "Seventeen."

"I see," Kagome remarked as she slipped an arm around Gin's shoulders and the other around Belle's and propelled them both toward the kitchen. "Why don't you girls give me a hand? I figured I'd start some oden. Everyone'll be starving by the time the tournament's over, right?"

Gin leaned back, trying to get a glimpse of Belle's face. She winced and stifled a sigh, hoping that she hadn't made things worse for Belle by begging her to come along.

* * *

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* * *

Kichiro leaned against the fireplace mantle, staring in the general direction of the kitchen. 

"What's Grabby doing here?" Ryomaru mumbled as he sidled up beside his brother.

Kichiro shrugged. "Gin invited her. They're friends."

"_Friends?_" Ryomaru echoed, voice dripping with disgust.

"Belle lives in the apartment next door."

"Oh, balls . . ."

"What the fuck is that smell?" InuYasha growled as he slammed the back door and strode into the living room.

The twins both turned to stare at their father. "Smell?"

"Hell, yes, that smell . . . it reeks of that youkai bastard . . . Gin's _teacher_."

"Yeah, he said he's met you," Kichiro remarked, turning his attention back to the kitchen. Belle was cutting up some vegetables, laughing at something Kagome had said. He swallowed hard and forced his gaze away again.

"You've met him?"

"Yeah," Kichiro remarked as he shifted his gaze to meet InuYasha's. "He's not too fond of you, either."

"Feh." InuYasha sniffed again. "So why do I smell him in this house?"

"His pup's here. She's Gin's friend, apparently," Ryomaru supplied, nodding his head toward the kitchen.

InuYasha leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he frowned thoughtfully. "She don't look as bad as her old man."

"She's grabby, that one," Ryomaru grumbled, flicking his ears indignantly.

"Gin's friend?" InuYasha repeated, cocking an eyebrow suspiciously.

"She grabbed my ears. She thought I was him."

Kichiro rolled his eyes since Ryomaru's tone left little in the way of abject disgust that anyone would be unable to tell the twins apart. "Yeah, that was stupid, you know: since we look exactly alike. Who'd have thought that?"

InuYasha's ears twitched. "An ear-grabber, huh?"

"Yep," Kichiro answered. Belle's smile widened as she let her head fall back, laughing in earnest at something Gin had said. Sooty lashes fanning over her flushed cheeks, her hair spilled down her back in a golden brown wave that caught the sunlight and bathed her in a golden aura. She had dimples. He'd never noticed that before . . .

'_Damn, Kich_ . . .'

Belle turned her head, caught his gaze. He tried to smile, but her amusement faded, and that guarded expression crept into her eyes as she quickly looked away. Kichiro winced, feeling like something had just hit him hard, right in the middle of his chest, leaving him breathless, dizzy, aching. '_Yeah_,' he agreed. '_Damn_ . . .'

* * *

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* * *

"So you grew up in Maine?" Kagome asked as Belle dumped the chunks of carrots into the simmering hotpot. 

"Yes, on the Atlantic Ocean."

"I'm surprised your father decided to stay here," Kagome went on. "I've heard of him. I always thought he was a bit reclusive."

"Yeah," Belle agreed. "It was surprising, really."

"Maybe he wanted a change of scenery," Gin suggested.

"Something like that," Belle mumbled.

"You're finished with school?" Kagome asked, either not hearing Belle's comment or choosing not to remark on it.

Belle nodded. "Yes. I was going to start college this fall . . . if we're back in time. I might just sit out a year, though. I'm not in a hurry."

"Oh, what do you want to study?" Gin chimed in.

"I'm not sure . . . There are so many things that interest me. Sometimes I think I want to do one thing, then I change my mind . . ."

"I sat out a few years because of that," Gin added. "It wasn't so bad."

"Is there a special guy in your life?" Kagome questioned, leaning around Belle to grab a bowl of onions.

Belle snorted. "Not hardly."

"You sound rather disappointed."

"Not at all," she answered in what she hoped was a calm tone. "I'm still young, right? I don't have to find someone right now."

"Oh, no, of course not," Kagome agreed.

Gin wrinkled her nose as she hopped up on the counter beside Belle. "Be glad your father's not like Papa. If he was, you'd _still_ be waiting to go on a date."

"Your father loves you, Gin, even if he is being completely pig-headed and anal about the whole idea of you dating," Kagome explained. "Besides that, if you really had wanted to date a young man, you would have fought harder to do it."

Gin just sighed and crunched on a raw carrot.

"Toga, I swear to God, if you don't back off, I'll neuter you, myself."

Kagome's eyes widened as Toga and Sierra with Coral and Cassidy in tow entered the house. Sierra waved her mate away and hurried around the divider into the kitchen as the girls' giggling echoed out of the living room. Toga and InuYasha followed Sierra into the kitchen, which could only mean that the twins were the ones causing the raucous laughter.

Belle frowned. She didn't want to consider that Kichiro might be good with children. She didn't want to think about him, at all.

"You're being entirely unreasonable," Toga said in an overly-reasonable tone. "All I said was---"

"I _heard_ what you said," Sierra growled. "My ears work fine, even if you _think_ the rest of me doesn't."

"I warned you, pup, you'd be stupid to try to tell your mate that she can't do . . . whatever . . ." InuYasha remarked.

"I was trying to be helpful," Toga pointed out.

"Yeah, you were trying to be helpful," Sierra grumbled as she washed her hands to help the girls. "I can carry my purse, you know."

"I didn't want you to strain yourself," Toga argued.

"Feh. I'm siding with your mate on this one, pup," InuYasha snorted.

Kagome shrugged. "Yeah, I'd have to agree.

"Me, too," Gin said with a grimace.

Toga rolled his eyes but grinned. "All right, I get it. You sure you're okay to help Aunt Gome? I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you sat down . . ."

"Toga . . ."

The inu-youkai's hands shot up in mock self-defense, and he backed away.

Satisfied that she'd made her point, Sierra heaved a sigh of relief and turned, finally seeming to realize that Belle was there. She smiled brightly. "Hello, Belle. Nice to see you again!" Her smile faded just a little, and she shook her head slowly. "You're not here with Kichiro, are you?"

Belle's back stiffened, and she shook her head. "Not at all. Gin asked me to come."

"Yeah, well, whatever," InuYasha mumbled as he grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it to Toga before retrieving another from the refrigerator. "Did you bring something else to wear?"

"No, Papa, she's not here to fight," Gin cut in. "I just thought she'd enjoy watching."

"What? You don't fight?" InuYasha demanded. Gin could tell from his slightly less gruff tone that he was joking. Belle shook her head.

"Fight? Me?"

"Wait . . . are you saying your old man didn't see fit to teach you how to defend yourself?" InuYasha asked, shaking his head in confusion.

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

Belle shrugged. "I don't really know . . . I suppose he thought it wasn't necessary."

InuYasha still looked like he was suffering mild shock, but he shrugged and strode out of the kitchen with Toga close behind.

"Was it something I said?" Belle asked, scowling at InuYasha's retreating form.

"Papa's like that," Gin answered. "He thinks that youkai and hanyous need to know how to protect themselves."

Belle laughed. "But my father's the North American tai-youkai . . . No one would dare threaten me."

Kagome grimaced. "It isn't like that. InuYasha taught Gin how to fight because, even though he tries to make sure she's always safe, he also has the peace of mind of knowing that she can do it, if it ever came down to it."

Belle nodded then shook her head. "I don't think Daddy would like it, if I learned how to fight." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I'd want to, anyway."

"Knowing how to defend yourself is important," Gin insisted. "Especially when bakas decide to leave you in the middle of the night instead of walking you home."

Belle winced and shot Gin an almost panicked glance.

Kagome frowned at the interplay between the girls. "Someone left you to walk home alone?"

Gin stared at Belle for a moment then sighed. "Belle said it wasn't a big deal."

"It _wasn't_ a big deal, Gin. Everything was fine."

"Man . . . good thing it didn't happen around these guys," Sierra commented as she jerked her head toward the living room. "They'd have beaten the tar out of anyone ignorant enough to leave a girl alone."

Gin snorted and opened her mouth. Belle touched her arm, shook her head. Gin made a face but snapped her mouth closed with a pronounced snort.

The discussion was interrupted as Kagura breezed into the house with Rin and headed straight for the kitchen. Sesshoumaru peeked in long enough to nod in greeting before he was attacked by two overzealous granddaughters while Shippou laughed at the sight of the proud tai-youkai being dragged down by pups.

"Aiko didn't come?" Gin asked. Nezumi ducked into the kitchen, too, but didn't try to help with dinner. Her cooking skills were matched only by those of her mate. Ryomaru couldn't cook, either. All things considered, Gin had to wonder if it wouldn't be cheaper for the two of them just to buy a restaurant. At least they'd get free meals, sort of . . .

Kagura hugged Sierra and rubbed her belly before turning to Gin. "Not this time. They already had a vacation planned."

"Oh, where'd they go?"

"Jamaica," Sierra answered.

"Aiko's idea?" Nezumi asked.

Kagura chuckled. "Of course."

Gin grinned as Sesshoumaru strode through the living room. "Uncle Sesshoumaru brought Tenseiga?"

Kagura rolled her eyes. "Yes, because Sierra and Toga were arguing when they called; something about not wanting to be carried everywhere? He figured he might have to use it on his son."

Sierra blushed but smiled. "He's ridiculous."

Kagura smiled, too. "Perhaps, but it is only because he loves you."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from InuYasha_**:

_She can't fight_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	25. The Tournament

**_Chapter 25_**

**_The Tournament

* * *

_**

Kichiro laughed as he leaned to the side to avoid Ryomaru's punches. Ryomaru might be the better fighter, but Kichiro had always been faster. The older of the twins was growing more and more irritated, and Kichiro's laughter only served to fuel his rapidly rising temper.

"Quit dodging and fight back, baka!" Ryomaru grumbled.

"I could do this all day," Kichiro goaded.

Ryomaru growled. Barreling toward Kichiro as his claws raked through the air, Ryomaru growled in frustration when Kichiro sidestepped the attack.

"That all you've got, Ryo?" Toga asked, leaning on his halberd. Standing off to the side between InuYasha and Sesshoumaru, he shook his head and sighed.

"Shut up," Ryomaru growled as he swung at his brother again. Kichiro laughed at him. InuYasha rolled his eyes. "I'll sic my cat on you."

"Oi!" Toga exclaimed. "Don't make me come over there to kick your ass."

"I think it's the cooking classes," Nezumi added. "They're slowing him down."

InuYasha snorted. "Feh!"

"Why _is_ he taking those classes?" Sierra asked as she turned to stare at Nezumi.

"Well . . ."

"Wench!" Ryomaru hollered.

Nezumi shrugged.

The door opened, and Gin slipped in, dragging Belle along behind her. Kichiro's head snapped to the side as her presence cut through his concentration. Ryomaru saw it as his opening, and with a well-placed and harder than necessary fist, he sent his brother flying back across the dojo and into a wall.

"Damn, Ryo," Kichiro grumbled as he sat up and shook his head.

Ryomaru crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. "Oi, I totally owned you, Kich."

"The hell."

"Yeah, yeah, bitching is for weaklings."

"Will you stop fucking _doing_ that?" InuYasha interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest as he stomped toward his sons. Ryomaru glanced down, fingers stilled as he grasped the diamond barbell nipple stud on his left nipple. He'd been pushing it from side to side---a habit that InuYasha despised---and Ryomaru jerked his hand down. "I _hate_ that damn thing," he growled.

"Nez likes it. Take it up with her."

InuYasha turned his head to glare at his son's mate. Nezumi blushed and stared at her hands despite the secretive little smile on her lips.

"Your brother has a nipple stud?" Belle whispered as she leaned toward Gin.

Gin giggled. "Yeah . . . Papa hates it."

"Oh, that's so . . . _bad_," Belle mused.

"I told you; the twins _were_ bad."

Belle nodded, gazing around at the assembly of bare-chested Izayoi and Inutaisho men. She had to allow, however grudgingly, that they were very impressive; every last one of them. Ryomaru was interesting. The nipple stud added a certain amount of arrogant danger to his powerful presence. Toga seemed more aloof except when he smiled at Sierra. Sesshoumaru looked rather bored. InuYasha was too busy arguing with his oldest son over the nipple stud that Ryomaru was fiddling with again.

'_There's one man you haven't looked at yet_.'

Belle wrinkled her nose and willed herself not to blush. '_And I'm not going to, either_.'

'_But Belle . . . you should_.'

'_Why would I do that? If I looked, and he saw me . . . I don't even want to think about the comments he'd make then_.'

'_Just for a second_.'

Belle grimaced. '. . . _Fine, but only for a second_.'

So she peeked. Shifting her gaze to the side without turning her head, Belle meant to glance at him then to quickly look away just as fast. Her eyes didn't get the message, however, and when she located him, her eyes widened. His clothes hid a lot, she mused as her head turned without her realizing it. Like his twin, and like their father, Kichiro wasn't huge or bulky by any means, but he wasn't skinny, either.

With his hair down, it should have been nearly impossible to tell the twins apart. The difference was in their stances. Ryomaru was definitely more careless in his demeanor, more casual, while Kichiro held himself with a quieter but no less commanding air. Well-defined muscles moved with symmetry, in a cadence of combined grace and power. She'd foolishly thought that Kichiro, being a surgeon and more of a city-boy than his twin, would be a little less physically intimidating. That was hardly the case. Kichiro . . . He could certainly hold his own in that department . . .

Belle's eyes widened as her lips parted, and she gaped at the one thing that captured and held her attention. '_His belly button . . . It . . . wow_ . . .'

"Belle?" Gin said, tapping Belle's arm.

Belle couldn't drag her eyes off Kichiro. "He has an outie?"

"A what?"

"His belly button sticks out---an outie."

"Oh, yes . . . you think that's neat?" Gin squeaked.

"Does he laugh if you poke it?"

"What?" Gin choked.

Belle giggled. "Never mind . . . it just reminds me of the Pillsbury Dough Boy . . ."

"What's that?"

"American commercials . . . he's the mascot for a food company. Cake mixes. Right up your alley."

Gin shook her head in confusion. "I still don't get it . . ."

"That's _interesting_ . . ." Belle trailed off, unable to tear her gaze away from Kichiro's outie belly button.

'_Earth to Belle . . . are you listening?_'

Kichiro rolled his head from side to side like his back was bothering him. Belle pressed her hand over her heart. '_Hmm?_'

'_You know you're doing it, right?_'

'_What?_'

'_Fangirling him_.'

Belle blinked, the words of her youkai like a dousing of cold water. '_I am not_.'

'_Uh huh_ . . .'

The men were arguing about who was fighting next, it seemed. Belle rolled her eyes. "Are they always like that?" she asked, leaning toward Gin.

"Kami, yes," Nezumi piped up, rolling her eyes as she nudged Sierra.

Sierra snorted. "Yeah, they are. Boys will be boys, I suppose."

"They're not so tough," Belle remarked with a smile. "My father could beat them."

All the talking in the dojo ceased as the five men slowly turned to stare at her.

"What was that, little girl?" Kichiro asked, the first to break the silence.

Belle smiled insincerely at the hanyou. "I said my father could beat you all."

"In what world?" he scoffed.

"Oh, please! You know he could! He almost---He could," she insisted again.

"I don't think---" Kichiro began.

"She has a point," Sesshoumaru finally cut in. "Zelig is the North American tai-youkai. He'd certainly be able to beat one of _your_ ilk," he added, lowering his disdainful glare at his half-brother. "This Sesshoumaru, on the other hand, would not lose to him."

InuYasha snorted. "Bastard against bastard? Bring him on."

"Are you going to call him?" Gin asked in a whisper as she leaned toward Belle.

Belle grinned. "Should I?"

Gin scowled as she thought it over. "Yeah, I think you should," she replied. "I mean, if he's _really_ as tough as you said . . ."

"Of course he is!" Belle assured Gin as she dug her cell phone out of her pocket. '_At least, I _think_ he is_ . . .'

'_You_ think _he is? That's not a vote of confidence_,' her youkai pointed out as Belle dialed the phone number.

'_Well, I haven't really seen Daddy fight, but he is tai-youkai . . . I'm sure he knows how_.'

'_And he did best Kichiro last night . . . easily, might I add_.'

"Hello?"

"Daddy?"

Cain paused for a moment before answering. "Bellaniece? Is everything okay?"

She smiled. "Yes, fine . . . I just thought maybe you'd like to come over here because they didn't believe me."

"Who didn't?"

"Anyone . . . I said that you could take them all, and they don't believe me."

Cain sighed. "Bellaniece . . ."

"He's not coming?" Gin asked. "Is he afraid to fight my papa?"

"Not hardly!" Cain grumbled. "Afraid of her papa? Pfft!"

"Will you come over then?" Belle asked.

Cain thought it over. "Yeah, fine."

Gin giggled as Belle snapped her phone closed and dropped it back in her pocket again. "I think it bothered him, that you thought he was afraid of your father," Belle commented.

"Papa's the best," she assured Belle. "He defeated Naraku."

"Not alone, he didn't," Shippou scoffed.

"Well, no, but he still did it."

Belle shook her head. "Naraku?"

Gin shrugged. "He's the one who tried to steal the Shikon no Tama and all that. He was evil."

Belle nodded. She vaguely remembered hearing Cain talk about that old legend. She hadn't realized it was true. "Wow, then he really is good."

"Kagome and Kikyou killed Naraku," Shippou informed them. "InuYasha was just . . . there."

"Oi!" InuYasha bellowed.

Shippou held up his hands. "Was it something I said?"

"I could beat them," Gin remarked as Toga and Ryomaru---the current combatants---circled each other, tossing out taunts and generally making nuisances of themselves in the process.

"Why did he say that the nipple stud is yours?" Belle asked Nezumi.

Nezumi grinned. "I told him to get it, thinking he wouldn't."

Belle shook her head. "I don't follow."

Nezumi blushed. "We had an . . . unusual beginning."

Sierra sighed. "Took him long enough to figure everything out."

Gin wrinkled her nose. "Everyone tried to tell him. Kich tried to beat it into him . . . baka."

Ryomaru separated the two blades of his sword and swung them both in his hands. "He's such a show-off," Nezumi grumbled.

Toga demonstrated a few moves of his own. The spear end of his halberd whistled through the air as he tossed it up and caught it, leveling it at his cousin in one fluid movement.

"They're as bad about showing off as InuYasha," Shippou remarked with a shake of his head.

"I heard that, runt," InuYasha growled without turning away from the fight.

Shippou laughed as Rin shook her head.

Ryomaru flipped back out of striking range as Toga shot forward. The hanyou landed in a crouch and kicked a foot out, catching Toga's ankle. Toga fell back but rolled to his feet before Ryomaru could close in on him. Toga hooked the end of the halberd against the blade of the Teishu, and the sword clattered on the practice mat near his father's feet.

"I win," Toga declared as he thumped the end of the halberd against the floor.

"You didn't win," Ryomaru countered, swinging Seishu as he lunged for his cousin. The sword clanged against the halberd, and Toga's weapon flew out of his hand as Ryomaru strode over to retrieve the other half of his twin blade.

Toga snorted. "Feh! That was a cheap shot!" he scoffed.

"Get over it, Toga! You didn't completely disarm me," Ryomaru gloated as he fastened the smaller swords back together into the larger version known as Ryoteishuseishu---the double bladed sword forged from both his father and his uncle's fangs.

Kichiro turned to stare over his shoulder at Belle, and she shifted but didn't move. She couldn't read his expression but he looked like he wanted to say something. She wasn't sure what he was trying to say, was even more uncertain how she knew that was what he was doing. Belle crossed her arms over her chest and looked away for a moment. In the end, he turned away. Belle bit her lip and sighed.

Gin tugged Belle's arm. "My turn."

Belle frowned and shook her head as Gin's look of grim determination dissuaded her from remarking as Gin headed toward the men.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Come on, Kich," Gin called as she rolled up the sleeves of her father's fire rat haori and pulled the Kusarigama from the holster slung around her hips. The strange undercurrent of the looks passing between Kichiro and Belle had reminded her just a little too vividly of the unfairness in her brother's complete and systematic condemnation of the girl in question. There wasn't a doubt in Gin's mind that Kichiro had judged Belle too harshly, and even if he didn't want to hear it, she just had to let him know what she thought of his absolutely boorish behavior. "I've still got a bone to pick with you." 

Kichiro lowered his chin, eyes widening as he regarded his sister. "Oh, really . . ."

"Yeah, I can take you," she insisted.

"Bring it on, baby girl," he retorted as he retrieved his sword and tossed the scabbard aside.

"Oi! Hurt your sister, and I'll have your ass," InuYasha hollered.

Kichiro adjusted his grip on Nishuto's hilt and wiggled his left hand. "Whatcha waitin' for? The Kich is too fast for the baby, huh?"

Gin whipped the lead ball of the Kusarigama over her head and stalked around her brother. "You'll think you're too fast, baka," Gin countered, whipping the ball toward Kichiro's head. He leaned back in time to avoid the flying metal.

"Aw, ish da bay-bee gool angwy?"

She erupted in a growl as her brother kept baby-talking her. "You're such a jerk, Kich," she bit out.

"Ah, but I'm a _fast_ jerk," he laughed as he avoided her again.

Gin growled and lunged at Kichiro. He jumped out of her reach. "Wait, you're really angry, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," Gin hissed quietly, careful to keep her voice down as she stalked her brother again. "I'm not a baby anymore."

"Yeah, you're not a baby anymore," Kichiro echoed as he blocked the ball again.

"And what you said . . . it wasn't fair. Belle didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do, just so you know."

"You're mad at me? Over her?" Kichiro asked, eyes darting to the side---to Belle---before he looked back at Gin again.

"What do you think?"

Kichiro ducked the flying ball once more. "Look, you don't---"

Gin screwed up her face in a determined scowl and spun around to send the ball flying at him once more. This time, though, he wasn't expecting it. Wrapping around his ankle before Gin gave the chain a good, solid tug, Kichiro grunted as his feet flew out from under him. His elbow hit the floor hard, and Nishuto flew out of his hand, clattering away. Before he could move, she planted her bare foot in the center of his chest and pressed, her eyes glowing with unspent irritation.

"I win," Gin gritted out as she jerked the chain loose from Kichiro's foot and wrapped it around her arm.

"Hell," Kichiro groaned. "Damn, Gin . . ."

She lifted her chin and tossed him one last dark look before spinning around on her heel to stomp away. Cain stood beside Belle, staring at her in unabashed amazement. Gin squared her shoulders and headed toward them as Toga and Ryomaru took turns teasing Kichiro about losing to a girl.

Belle tried to hide her amusement but couldn't help the little smile that slipped out as she scrunched up her shoulders and grasped Gin's arm. "That was . . . cool," she murmured. Gin shrugged off the praise before peeking up at Cain, who still looked rather shocked.

"Hi," she said, trying to ignore the nervous fluttering in her stomach as she shifted from one foot to the other.

"So . . . The cake fairy can fight."

Gin broke into a timid little grin.. "I told you I could."

"Not bad."

"Zelig."

Gin jumped and looked back over her shoulder as Sesshoumaru strode over to them.

"Sesshoumaru, you look well."

Sesshoumaru inclined his head in acknowledgement. "And this is your little girl? Bellaniece."

Cain's eyes sparkled, and he nodded. "Yes."

"Care for some sport?"

Staring over Gin's head at the assembled combatants who were still busy needling Kichiro over his second defeat of the day, Cain shrugged carelessly. "Doesn't look like much competition," he remarked.

"There's my papa," Gin piped up. "He's competition."

Cain smiled tightly. "Oh, yeah . . . _him_ . . ."

"You need not fight an ignorant baka like InuYasha," Sesshoumaru scoffed. "I'll challenge you."

The youkai seemed surprised. "Really . . . The last time you challenged me was . . ."

Sesshoumaru smiled. "When you broke your sword."

Cain nodded. "That's what I thought. All right . . ."

"Wait, Daddy!" Belle said as she caught Cain's hand. "You should take off your shirt, too."

He narrowed his gaze on his daughter. "Why would I do that?"

Belle shrugged. "Better mobility. You don't what them to have any advantages, do you?"

Cain rolled his eyes. Gin looked around wildly---everywhere but directly at Cain, trying to ignore the soft rustle of fabric as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Oh, Cain! What a pleasant surprise," Kagura said as she and Kagome stepped through the door with Cassidy and Coral in tow. "Kagome, this is Belle's father and an old friend of the family, Cain Zelig. Cain, this is Sesshoumaru's sister-in-law, Kagome."

"We've met, sort of," Kagome remarked with a bright smile.

"Not formally, I'm afraid," Cain commented.

"So you're the North American---_stripes_," Kagome murmured, eyes widening in mild shock. She gaped at the teal stripes that wrapped around his sides as he shrugged off his button down white shirt and handed it to Belle.

"Kago-o-_oh, my_," Kagura trailed off as she finally saw where Kagome was staring. Sesshoumaru shot the women a scrutinizing look and muttered something Gin couldn't hear.

"Oi, wench!" InuYasha snarled as he stomped over to the gathering. "Just what do you think you're doing?" he demanded as he grabbed Kagome's hand and dragged her to the side.

Gin stared at her parents before slowly looking around. It wasn't just Kagome and Kagura who had noticed Cain's stripes. Both Nezumi and Sierra were gawking quite openly at the youkai while Rin fluttered a hand to shut Shippou up. Gin pushed aside a strange sense of irritation that the rest of the women had apparently noticed that Cain was, well, for lack of a better term, _hot_.

Gin frowned and dared a glance at Cain. He was talking to Sesshoumaru without seeming to notice that every female in the building was now quite shamelessly staring at his youkai crests with the exception of his daughter, who was trying her hardest not to look at Kichiro.

Ryomaru and Toga were too busy glowering at their respective mates to pay attention to Kichiro, who apparently hadn't learned his lesson from being knocked down twice. The miscreant twin reached around Toga and Ryomaru, grabbing nipples and twisting hard.

"Son of a---" Toga growled as he spun away from his cousin and knocked his hand away.

Ryomaru wasn't as fortunate. The nipple Kichiro had grabbed was the one that had the nipple stud. The hanyou howled in pain as he swung a fist in his brother's direction. Kichiro let go, stumbling away as he doubled over in laughter.

Toga stalked him on one side while Ryomaru closed in on the other. Kichiro altered his course and retreated to the relative safety of his mother, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her as he winked at his twin and his cousin.

"What are you doing, Kichiro?" Kagome asked as she patted his arms that were securely hooked around her neck.

"I just wanted to hug my mama . . ." he schmoozed. Gin rolled her eyes. Belle looked stunned.

"Oi! You can't use Mother as a shield, you coward," Ryomaru grumbled as he stalked toward his brother.

InuYasha slapped a hand into his son's chest to stop him. "No rough housing around your mother," he growled.

Toga snorted. "He can't hide behind her forever," he told Ryomaru.

Kichiro twitched his ears, kissed Kagome's cheek loudly, and waved at his cousin and brother without making a move away from Kagome. Toga rolled his eyes. Ryomaru snorted.

The two tai-youkai prowled around one another. Cain was slightly taller than Sesshoumaru, but Sesshoumaru still moved with subtle dexterity. Sesshoumaru drew Tenseiga. Cain was using one of the many swords that InuYasha kept around for practice. Blunt-bladed to avoid serious injury, they were the ones that the children had all grown up using.

Sesshoumaru struck first, whipping around in a circle as he brought Tenseiga up. Cain easily blocked, sparks shooting from the fissure where the blades met, as Sesshoumaru pushed him. Sliding back a couple of feet, Cain grimaced as he lowered his sword to parry again.

Gin bit her lip, ears flattening as the screech of metal slipping against metal echoed through the dojo. She opened her mouth to cheer for Cain but snapped it closed before she could. She ought to root for her uncle, but she wanted to encourage Cain, too. The conflicting desires were unsettling, and in the end, she didn't say anything at all.

Cain spun around to launch a counterattack. Sesshoumaru grinned as he swung Tenseiga. Four consecutive crashes rang out as they battled each other back and forth. Belle gasped softly as Sesshoumaru nearly knocked the sword from Cain's grip. Cain held on and flicked the sword in a small circle that might have disarmed a lesser opponent. Sesshoumaru let go only to catch Tenseiga in his left hand as he slowly shook his head and smiled a little wider.

The soft mewl of a cat drew Cain's attention. Swiveling his head to locate the animal, he stated in raised-eyebrow surprise as Yukitora strolled into the dojo. Sesshoumaru caught the practice sword with the tip of Tenseiga. Cain absently flicked the sword in a small circle to avoid being disarmed as he watched the cat run over to Ryomaru and leap onto the hanyou's shoulder. She pushed herself up on her hind legs, leaning on Ryomaru's head to steady herself. He flicked one ear to lure the cat's batting paw but continued shifting his glare from the battle to his twin brother and back again. When no one else reacted to the animal, Cain's surprise shifted into a look of befuddlement, but he finally shifted his attention back to his opponent.

'_They're just playing with each other_,' Gin thought as Sesshoumaru blocked Cain's attack. Sesshoumaru launched a series of short blows with Tenseiga that Cain repelled with remarkable ease. The two inu-youkai moved back and forth with an almost choreographed precision.

Movement caught Gin's gaze, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Toga had retrieved his halberd. Kichiro had finally come out from behind Kagome to watch the fight, and while Ryomaru seemed to have forgotten that he owed Kichiro, Toga hadn't. He eyed his weapon for a few moments then spun it casually. The action caught the tie that held Kichiro's hakama up, and Gin slapped a hand over her eyes as her brother's pants fell.

"My . . ." Belle murmured, fingers fluttering over her lips as she slowly shook her head.

"Oi, Toga!" Kichiro growled as he grabbed his hakama and held them up with one hand and swung blindly at their cousin with the other one.

Toga chortled as he leaned on the halberd. Ryomaru snorted. "Ni-i-i-i-ice."

"Oh, for the . . . you could have worn underwear," InuYasha grumbled as he glowered at Kichiro.

"Underwear's too binding for practice," Kichiro retorted, red-faced.

The battle was forgotten as Kichiro lurched after Toga as Ryomaru ran up behind his twin and ripped his pants down---again.

"Hey!" Cain hollered as he tossed the sword down and stomped toward the three. Kichiro growled, tying the short ends of the belt together to hold up his pants. "There are women present!"

Ryomaru took advantage of the situation to squeeze and twist Kichiro's nipple. "Ain't nothin' they haven't seen before," he insisted as he arched his back to avoid Kichiro's mad grab.

"I bet to differ," Cain stated. "My _daughter_ is right there!"

Ryomaru grabbed again as Kichiro ducked out of the way. The North American tai-youkai growled as the older of the twins managed to grasp and twist his nipple instead. Hand streaking out in a blur of movement, Cain caught Ryomaru by one ear, Kichiro by his hair, and shook them both. Ryomaru started to laugh but howled instead when Yukitora bit into his ear and hung on. Kichiro tried to twist out of Cain's grasp but couldn't escape. Toga muttered a few choice words and hooked his arms under Cain's shoulders, trying to restrain him from actually hurting the baka twins.

InuYasha rolled his eyes and shook his head. Kagome buried her face in her hands. Sesshoumaru stared at the spectacle in something akin to amused disgust. Kagura heaved a sigh since she had seen this sort of display more than once. Sierra and Nezumi didn't look like they had any idea, just what to think of it all. Shippou's cheeks puffed out and sucked in as he struggled not to laugh. Rin pursed her lips and blinked helplessly. Belle was blushing but looked rather entertained. Gin couldn't help but wish that the floor would open up and swallow her. Drat her embarrassing family, anyway . . .

'_Look on the bright side, doll_.'

'_There is one?_'

'_Sure . . . you've gotten to ogle Cain all afternoon, and no one has been the wiser_.'

Gin made a face. '_Of course not. They were all too busy ogling, too_.'

'_Oh-ho! Jealous, are we?_'

'_No!_'

'_Good. You shouldn't be. After all, Cain did kiss_ you, _remember?_'

Gin blushed and scuffed her toe on the floor. '_Yeah . . . he did, didn't he?_'

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

_Mel will likely kill me for this, but … Ecchi Pants: the sketch (and she's planning on fixing and coloring it later): www(dot)deviantart(dot)com(slash)deviation(slash)19546594 … It's awesome_!

_**Nishuto**: **Ni** means Two; **Shuto** means Blade … Two Blade (Twin Blade)_.

_**Ryoteishuseishu**: Both Lawful Blade, Righteous Blade_.

_It is actually two swords that lock together into one. The Seishu was forged from Sesshoumaru's fang. The Teishu was forged from InuYasha's fang. When needed, Ryo can unlock the swords into two separate swords that are easier to wield one-handed_.

_**Blade **– Shuto_.

_**Ryo**: both_.

_**Seiji**: lawful_.

_**Teijo**: righteous_.

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kagome_**:

_Nice stripes _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	26. Evidence

**_Chapter 26_**

**_Evidence

* * *

_**

"You know, I wish my idiot brothers hadn't interrupted your battle with Uncle Sesshoumaru," Gin commented as she cleared the dishes off the table and shrugged off Cain's hand of assistance. She'd made good on her offer to cook a late dinner for Cain and Belle, and as the hostess, she refused to let Cain help her clean up, too. "It would have been interesting, seeing who won."

Cain snorted. "Pfft! As if there was any doubt about that! I'd have won. I was just playing with him, anyway."

Gin raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "I don't know . . . Uncle Sesshoumaru is pretty tough . . . He's about the only one who really gives Papa a run for his money."

"Isn't Sesshoumaru the one who trained you?" Belle asked as she stood up and brought her plate over before rinsing out a sponge to wipe off the table.

"Incidentals."

"Really? Uncle Sesshoumaru trained you?" Gin asked.

"Yeah. Pointless, really. Never had much use for a sword."

Gin paused with her hands buried in the sudsy dishwater and thoughtfully regarded Cain with a small grin. "Hmm . . . You're an interesting man, Cain Zelig."

The smallest hint of a smile touched the corners of his lips. "Am I?"

She nodded.

Belle cleared her throat as she dropped the sponge into the sink and divided her attention between Gin and her father. "I was impressed with your skills, Gin."

Gin shrugged but blushed. "Kich had it coming."

"Her father taught her how to fight," Belle pointed out, tugging on Cain's arm. "Why didn't you teach me?"

"Do you plan on going out and getting into a fight, Bellaniece?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Of course not!" she scoffed. "That doesn't mean that I might not need to know some stuff, don't you think?"

Cain slowly shook his head. "Nope, I don't think. All you need to know is that any man---human or youkai---will be on the ground if you kick him between the legs. Then you run."

Gin shook her head as she dried her hands on a towel and turned around to face him. "Why don't you want her to learn?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not really."

Cain shrugged. "She doesn't need to because there will always be someone there to protect her."

Gin could sense that there was something else that he wasn't saying.

Belle rolled her eyes. "I know you want to think so, Daddy, but that's really not possible."

"Yeah, well, I keep telling you, you have to be careful, don't I?"

Gin idly dragged the towel through her hand. "It's because she's hanyou, isn't it? Because of what could happen if she fought or if her life were in danger . . ."

Cain grimaced. Belle's playful smile faltered then faded altogether. "There's that, too," Cain finally admitted with a shake of his head. "Thing is, once you learn how to fight, it's easy to think you can just stand your ground instead of trying to get away."

"Papa has Tetsusaiga. It sealed his youkai blood for a long time, not that he needs it anymore. He learned to control it a long time ago," Gin mused.

"And the rest of you?" Cain asked, careful to keep his tone casual so as not to slight InuYasha.

Gin folded the towel and dropped it on the counter. "We don't transform. Uncle Sesshoumaru said he thinks it's because Mama's a miko. He thinks her blood tempers Papa's."

Cain chuckled, shaking his head as Gin blinked and waited for him to explain just what he found so amusing. "The hanyou and the miko. Rather unlikely combination."

Belle giggled. "I don't really want to fight, anyway," she remarked.

Gin turned back to finish washing the dishes. Cain reached over and flicked her left ear with the tip of his claw. She flattened the appendage. He chuckled and carefully pried it up. She twitched her ear away from his hands as he chuckled and grabbed for it again. Gin growled, flipping a handful of suds at him. Cain wiped them off his cheek with a deep, throaty laugh.

"I thought you said you wouldn't throw stuff at me anymore," he reminded her.

"You _coerced_ me into promising I wouldn't throw _clay_ at you anymore," she corrected, scooping up another handful of suds and dabbing them on his nose. Cain's eyes crossed as he stared at the melting bubbles before he blew out a gust of air, sending the bubbles flying into the air as Gin giggled. "You're like the Big, Bad Wolf."

"They're bubbles," he countered.

"Clay?" Belle echoed.

Cain's back stiffened, and he shot his daughter an almost nervous glance. "Clay?" he repeated.

Belle nodded. "Gin threw _clay _at you?"

Gin blushed. "Well . . . sort of . . ."

"Why did she do that, Daddy?" Belle asked, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the refrigerator.

"I couldn't see her bear," he answered with a completely blank expression.

Gin rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Because he touched my ears," she said. "_I_ couldn't even see the bear. How could you have seen the bear?"

"Bear?" Belle asked.

"Her sculpture was an abstract bear---" Cain began.

"If you tilted your head to the side and squinted . . ." Gin finished.

Belle nodded slowly as she kicked her toe against the hardwood floor. "Wow . . . Oh, Daddy . . ."

"What?" Cain demanded, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

Belle laughed. "I'm really tired. I'm going to go on home. Thanks for inviting me today, Gin! It was a very interesting afternoon."

"Okay," Gin agreed. "Goodnight!"

Belle stopped, half way out the door, to lean around and smile, wiggling her fingers in a cheerful farewell.

Cain sighed as the door closed behind his daughter. "Well, that was . . . uncomfortable."

Gin rinsed out the sinks and dried her hands again before turning to face Cain. "Uncomfortable because Bellaniece was here or uncomfortable because you were joking with me?"

"Maybe I shouldn't answer that."

Gin nodded and shuffled into the living room, tucking her foot under and grabbing a throw pillow to hold against her chest as she sat down on the sofa. Cain followed her and sat at the far end. She tucked her chin deep into the pillow and stared at him. Scowling at his hands, he seemed to be thinking about things that Gin wished she understood. "Why do you look sad?" she finally asked.

"I'm fine," he lied.

"Can I do anything?"

He slowly shook his head. "You've done enough."

Gin bit her lip, hugged the pillow tighter. "That sounds like an accusation."

"No . . . It's not. It's just . . . It's not important."

"If it weren't important," she began quietly, "it wouldn't make you unhappy."

"You don't understand. You'll never understand. I . . . I don't _want_ you to understand."

She swallowed hard past the growing lump that thickened in her throat and nodded. "I see."

"Gin . . ." Cain sighed and trailed off, letting his forehead drop heavily into his hand.

"We're friends, right?"

He seemed surprised by her question but nodded. "Yeah."

She shrugged and tried to smile. "Then that's enough, isn't it? That's not so hard to understand."

He stared at her for a moment then smiled, too. "No, it isn't hard, at all."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro stared at the framed photograph and rubbed his temple as he slowly shook his head. A family picture taken long ago, it was one of the few that he kept on display in his home. InuYasha knelt beside Kagome who held Gin in her lap. The twins hadn't wanted to cooperate---there were butterflies thick in the yard---and in the end, InuYasha had to hold onto his sons on either side of Kagome to keep them there long enough for Rin to snap the picture. '_Time for another family picture?_' 

Kichiro winced. '_Yeah, in a few months, I suppose so_.'

'_Does it bother you?_'

'_Not really. I always wondered why Mama and the old man never had more pups after Gin_.'

Then again, it had been a bit of a shock. After the tournament ended and everyone was gathered around the extended table, Kagome had said that she had an announcement. He wasn't sure what he was expecting. It certainly wasn't what she finally said.

"_Your father and I wanted to tell you all at the same time. We've decided to have another baby_."

_Ryomaru had dropped his chopsticks_.

_Kichiro had wiped his mouth on a napkin and sat back to wait for their mother to elaborate_.

_Gin had looked surprised for all of a second before clapping and bobbing her shoulders in excitement_.

_Sesshoumaru had rolled his eyes. "Kami . . . more of your miscreants?_"

_InuYasha snorted as he pushed his plate away. "Yeah, well, I tried to tell her_ . . ."

_Kagome poked InuYasha in the ribs. "Don't you have anything to say? Ryomaru? Kichiro? Gin?_"

_Gin hopped up and ran over to hug her mother. "I think it's wonderful," Gin assured Kagome_.

"_It's fine," Kichiro agreed_.

"_Ryomaru?" Kagome asked, tilting her head as she gazed at her oldest son_.

"_I ain't got a problem with it," he said slowly_.

_InuYasha didn't miss Ryomaru's reluctant statement. "If you ain't got a problem with it, then why do you sound like you do?_"

_Ryomaru sighed. "It ain't the pup; that's fine_ . . ."

"_Then what is it?" InuYasha demanded_.

"_Well, it means that you'd have to have . . . sex_ . . ."

_Cain had been lifting a glass of water. He set it down and coughed. Belle curled her fingers under and pressed them to her lips. Kagura rolled her eyes and shook her head. Nezumi covered her eyes with her hand. Sierra stopped whispering to Toga. Toga choked out a laugh. Sesshoumaru sat back, crossing his arms over his chest with an 'I Rest My Case' sort of expression. Rin slapped Shippou's chest before he could make one of his legendary comments. Gin stopped mid-hug, eyes rounding in shock that her brother would voice that sort of opinion. Kagome moaned_.

_InuYasha looked fit to kill. "Feh! And just how do you suppose you were made? There ain't a hanyou fairy, baka._"

"_Yeah, but we didn't know about that back then . . . Ain't you two a little old to be doing that?_"

_Nezumi jabbed her elbow into her mate's ribs as InuYasha flushed and sputtered indignantly. "No, we ain't too old to be_---"

"_But there aren't any other objections to our having another baby?" Kagome broke in, laying her hand on InuYasha's arm to calm him_.

"_I think it's wonderful, Mama," Gin said, giving her mother another squeeze before leaning over to kiss InuYasha's cheek, "and I don't think you're too old to have sex_."

_InuYasha groaned. Kagome blushed_.

"_What's 'sex'?" Coral asked. Toga choked on his food and dropped his chopsticks in favor of slapping a hand over his daughter's overzealous mouth_.

"_I want a hanyou fairy!" Cassidy piped up_.

"_You could ask Gin if she knows the hanyou fairy," Belle told the little girl. "She's got fairy connections_."

_Cain's coughing escalated into something akin to a mad hacking, and he grabbed the water and downed it fast_.

Kichiro chuckled as the memory faded, and he set the photograph aside. No, he didn't mind the idea of his parents having more children. If that made them happy, then he was all for it, even if the blatant reminder of just how they'd create that child did disturb him on some level . . . Not that he didn't know how things like that worked, but the blatant reminder . . . Kichiro sighed.

The ticking clock chimed the hour, breaking the stillness that he knew too well. Standing up, wandering over to the black lacquered baby grand piano that stood next to the wall of windows flanking the sliding glass doors, Kichiro sat down and ran his fingertip over the keys.

Playing a song he knew by heart, he closed his eyes and let his fingers dance over the keys. When Ryomaru had been spending extra time in the forest, training and making sure he was the toughest of them all, Kichiro had begged Kagome to let him take piano lessons. He'd thought at the time, that his father wouldn't see the need for the indulgence, but Kagome had encouraged him to ask InuYasha. It had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, back then. Afraid that he'd seem weak or strange in his father's eyes, it had taken him weeks to build up the courage to ask InuYasha.

_Sitting atop the boulder by the pond in the back yard, InuYasha had seemed almost unapproachable as seven year-old Kichiro had forced himself to come closer. "Papa . . . I wanted to ask you something," he began, scuffing the toe of his new tennis shoes in the dirt_.

_InuYasha didn't move, but his eyes shifted to the side as he waited for his son to speak_.

"_I wondered . . . I thought I'd . . . Can I have piano lessons?" he blurted, cheeks reddening. He knew his father was going to say 'no'. InuYasha was a fighter, and Kichiro, even at that age, knew he wasn't_.

_InuYasha jerked his head at the empty spot beside him, the one that Kagome normally occupied in the evenings. Kichiro climbed up and scrunched up his shoulders as he waited_.

"_So you want to play the piano?" InuYasha finally asked_.

_Kichiro nodded, unable to discern InuYasha's thoughts from his tone of voice. "Yes_."

"_If you take them, what are you going to do with what you learn?_"

_Kichiro shook his head. "I don't understand_."

"_Well, you can't learn things just because. You have to use what you learn somehow, don't you?_"

"_I guess_."

_InuYasha shrugged. "You think it over, and let me know_."

_Kichiro scowled, running his claws in the deep welts InuYasha had dug there from long evenings spent staring over the pond. He was sure that his father wasn't going to let him take the lessons. Kichiro sighed_.

"_Might help your coordination some," InuYasha mused. "Not that you're clumsy, because you aren't_."

"_I like music," Kichiro muttered_.

"_Could be good for your concentration, too_."

"_Uh huh_."

"_I don't suppose they'd hurt. One thing: if you take these lessons, you can't quit, you got that?_"

_Kichiro grinned. "I won't quit!_"

And he hadn't. By the time he'd finished school, he'd been through four teachers, all of whom had run out of things to teach him.

The song ended, and Kichiro smiled sadly.

'_You know what's really bugging you._'

'_I know_.'

'_So why don't you do something about it?_'

Kichiro shook his head. '_Like what?_'

'_Call her_.'

'_Call her? And do what? She'd hang up on me_.'

'_Maybe, but you could still try_.'

He stood up and reached for his phone, but stopped with his hand hovering over it. "What am I? Fifteen? I can't _call_ her to tell her I was an ass . . ."

'_Yeah, but going over there really might not be that great an idea_ . . .'

'_By all means, feel free to shut up_,' Kichiro thought as he snatched the cell phone and dropped it into his pocket while striding toward the door.

'_All right, but don't say I didn't warn you when she slaps you a good one . . . and you kind of deserve that, too_.'

Kichiro grimaced as he checked his watch. It was nearly nine-thirty. Hopefully he'd be able to talk to her without her father's interference . . . Or maybe . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"I want chocolate." 

Cain peeped over the top of the art book he was browsing and cocked an eyebrow at Gin. "Chocolate?"

She didn't look up from the magazine in her hands. Propped against the far end of the sofa with her knees raised and the magazine resting on her thighs, she seemed absorbed in the article she was reading---or the accompanying pictures . . . "Yeah, chocolate. Lara Bowen did this sculpture. It's an eighteen foot swan made entirely of chocolate."

Cain leaned forward to peek over the top of the magazine. '_An eighteen foot chocolate swan? Gin would be bouncing off the walls for days _. . .'

"The swan's nice, but can you imagine? That's a lot of chocolate."

"I doubt anyone is going to eat it," he remarked dryly, flopping back against the other arm of the sofa. "Might be interesting to see them try . . ."

Gin flipped her legs off the sofa and dropped the magazine on the coffee table as she stood up and started toward the kitchen. Cain shook his head when she returned with a very large box of chocolate pocky. "You can't eat that," he pointed out reasonably.

"You want some?" she asked, shaking the open box at him, nibbling the first stick of the sweet treat.

"No, thanks," he answered.

"You know, I don't offer to share my chocolate with just anyone," she coaxed.

Cain grinned. "Nope, and you shouldn't even be eating it."

Gin rolled her eyes and dropped the box beside her. "I won't get hyper from a packet of pocky."

"That's not the reason. You're eating Men's Pocky."

"So?"

"So you're not a man, are you?"

Gin snorted. "That's the most sexist thing I think I've ever heard you say!" she mused. "I can eat this. Men's Pocky. Feh!"

"No, I'm pretty sure they put some sort of hormone thing in that . . . testosterone or something. Chocolate on steroids."

"You're just trying to keep me from enjoying my chocolate, but it won't work."

"Nah," he argued, turning his attention back to the book again, "I'm just trying to save you from ending up, you know, with man-parts . . . and body hair."

Gin stopped eating for a moment then pulled another stick of pocky from the packet. "Man-parts and body hair? Now I know you're just teasing."

"Maybe, but you had to think about it, didn't you?"

"Disgusting, Zelig-sensei, just disgusting."

Cain chuckled as he stood up and strode over to the cupboard. When he glanced over his shoulder, it was to find Gin leaning on the back of the sofa on her knees. "What are you doing?"

Wrinkling his nose as he stared at the entirely unacceptable selection of candy in Gin's cupboard, Cain shook his head. "Gin . . . you don't have any _decent_ candy here."

"That's not true. It's all decent."

"It's all . . . pocky and gummies, and . . . koala bear cookies . . ."

"Those are good! They have chocolate filling."

Cain shook his head as he strode over, grabbed Gin's hands, and tugged. "Come on, baby girl. You need better candy."

"There's nothing wrong with my candy," she insisted but stood up.

"Sure, there is. You need . . . manly candy."

Gin giggled as she slipped her sandals on. "You mean like the Men's Pocky?"

"Exactly."

She shook her head, rolled her eyes, but grabbed her purse, and after checking to make sure she had her keys, she let him drag her out of the apartment toward the stairs.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle wrapped a thick towel around herself and tucked in the end before padding out of the bathroom toward the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before shutting herself away in her bedroom for the night. 

The trill of the telephone cut through the quiet of the apartment, and Belle winced as she shook her head and hurried over to answer. "Hello?"

"Hi."

She almost dropped the phone. "Dr. Izayoi?"

"Yeah . . . You know, after the other night, I'd say you can drop the formalities."

Belle's hand tightened around the receiver. "I'd rather not, thank you."

"Yeah, all right. I was a little harsh, and---"

"Were you? I hadn't noticed."

"Belle . . ."

She sighed. "Look, it's late, and I'm tired, so if that's all you called for, then I'll say goodnight."

"Wait!"

Belle held the phone away from her ear and stared at it for several seconds before closing her eyes and sighing. Grabbing her water off the table, she headed for her room "All right, what is it?"

"You . . . uh . . . you don't have to stay away from Gin."

"Really? Wow, you know, that's really magnanimous of you."

"And I might have misjudged you at the restaurant."

Belle closed her door and moved over to the window, perching on the sill as she let her head fall against the cool glass. "Just at the restaurant?"

"Can you cut me some slack here? I'm not good at this."

"Sorry to hear that. I'd think that as often as you stick your foot in it, you'd have had a lot of practice by now."

"All right, I deserved that."

"Yeah, you did."

"Belle?"

"What?"

"Look out your window."

She lowered the phone against her chest and peeked outside. A flash of silver waved in the breeze from just beside the structure. Smothering a gasp, she dropped the phone as she groped the ledge to push the window open. "What are you _doing?_" she hissed, leaning her head outside to glare at the hanyou perched on the three foot wide ledge that ran the width of the building just under her window.

Kichiro snapped his cell phone closed and stood up. "I'm telling you that---"

"That you're _crazy?_ Do you know how far off the ground you are? How did you get up here?"

"Are you worried, Belle?"

She snapped her mouth closed on whatever she had been about to say. "Of course not! Why would I be worried about you?"

"Admit it, wench: you like me."

"I will not because I do not," she grumbled.

"You do," he argued. "Nice towel, by the way. Do you always hang halfway out your window in nothing but a towel?"

Belle gasped as she crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at Kichiro. "Do you always sit outside people's windows? That's rather stalker-ish, don't you think?"

"Is that a real word? 'Stalker-ish'?"

"It is now."

"And here I thought you'd be impressed at the lengths I've gone to, just for you."

"I'm not," she growled. "You'd better leave. I don't think my father---"

"You going to tell him?"

Belle sighed. "I should."

Kichiro sat in the open window, feet on the ledge below. "You probably should."

"Daddy would kill you for coming over, especially after last night."

"He probably would."

"Not to mention that you're a complete jerk . . . you'd _deserve_ the beating he'd give you if I told him."

"I probably do."

"Why did you come over here?"

Kichiro shrugged as he stared at the moon. "I shouldn't have reacted like that yesterday."

Belle grimaced when the telephone beeped the 'off-the-hook' tone and clicked it off. "So you came over here to . . . assuage your guilty conscience? Did it work? Do you feel better now?"

"That's not what I meant," he grumbled. "I didn't think . . . I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I'd have to care for you to hurt me," she forced herself to say. She could even be thankful that her voice didn't falter at all. She didn't like the slight stiffening in his back, the slight flattening of his ears, and she didn't like the instant regret that made her want to take back the things she'd said. "Look, Dr. Izayoi, it's late, and I'm tired. I think you should go."

He slowly turned his head, regarding her in the stillness. He looked like he was considering his options. Belle tucked the end of the towel in a little more. "I'll go. I just . . . Will you answer one question before I do?"

Belle nodded once, held her breath, knowing she wasn't going to like whatever question he had in mind.

"Why did you let me kiss you? I mean, you said yourself, you don't care about me. If you don't care at all, then why?"

"Call it curiosity," she answered, turning her face away, hoping he wouldn't see what she was trying to hide. "It won't happen again."

"I see."

She waited for a moment, half of her hoping he'd leave, the other half wishing he'd stay while she told herself again and again that he was just trying to get to her, to prove he could. He'd made his feelings abundantly clear. He thought she was a spoiled brat; a child. Belle closed her eyes, bit her lip, dug her claws into her palms to keep herself from screaming.

'_This is silly. He can't hurt you. You said you wouldn't let him. Tell him to leave, Belle, and he'll go. You answered his question, and he'll go_.'

Belle drew a deep breath and opened her eyes, started to speak, but the words didn't come.

He'd been true to his word, hadn't he? In those moments . . .

Kichiro was gone.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_I … hate him _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	27. Less is More

**_Chapter 27_**

**_Less is More

* * *

_**

Cain slouched back in the thickly cushioned chair and stared across the wide desk as Sesshoumaru steepled his hands, tapping his fingertips together in a slow cadence. "It's been a long time, Zelig," Sesshoumaru finally said, breaking the amiable silence with his statement.

"Maybe."

"How are things in the States?"

Cain shrugged. "Quiet. Peaceful. I heard tale of your youkai uprising a few years ago. What was that all about?"

Sesshoumaru waved a hand as if it were of no real account. "That? Some lesser-youkai thought to band together. They were displeased that their kin were hunted, so they waited until Ryomaru was weakened and tried to attack."

"Hunted? I see . . ."

"Yes. They were the dregs of our kind; murderers, thieves . . ."

Cain nodded. He hadn't had trouble in years. Then again, North America was a huge place. Trouble was easier to take care of when he delegated much of the responsibility to others. Cain had installed men who acted as his agents in the further reaches of his jurisdiction. Despite the infrequent incursions of his hunters in his home, Cain, himself, hadn't had to go after any of the deviant youkai in a very long time.

Sesshoumaru gazed at Cain in the direct manner that he was familiar with. It normally meant that Sesshoumaru had something on his mind. It normally meant that Cain wasn't particularly going to like hearing it. "Kagura and I were sorry that we missed Isabelle's funeral."

Standing up and striding over to the wet bar, Cain took his time refilling his empty glass. "It's fine. The hurricane left everything a mess. I doubt your plane would have been able to land at Miami International."

"How do you like working at the university?"

Cain emptied the scotch and refilled the glass again. "It's not so bad. Some of the students show real promise."

"Why did you decide to stay?"

"Thought it'd be good. A change of scenery . . . Bellaniece hasn't been this far from home before."

Sesshoumaru nodded. "Sounds like a solid reason. Suppose you tell me the real one."

"I thought you believed in the adage of 'Live and let live'."

"More like, "Live and let die,' but that hardly matters when you're trying to avoid my questions."

"Was I?"

Cain sighed. "I don't really know why I stayed."

Sesshoumaru didn't look like he believed Cain, but he let the question drop. "Come," he said, standing up and heading toward the glass doors and the patio beyond. They walked through the garden in silence. Strange, really. Most of their friendship had been based on the silence. It was something Cain had come to respect and welcome.

"So," Cain ventured, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he shuffled along beside Sesshoumaru. "Too old to do it, are you?"

"What's that?" Sesshoumaru asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Cain shrugged. "Gin said you told her you can't transform anymore. Something about being too old?"

Sesshoumaru nodded in slow understanding. "Ah, she remembers that . . ."

"Yes, she does. You lied to your niece?"

Sesshoumaru shrugged. "Lie is such a harsh term . . . I prefer to think of it as . . . avoiding undue attention. A dog as big as the Inutaisho corporate office complex would be noticed, don't you think?"

"Uh huh. So how old were you? You know, so I can expect to lose the ability then, too?" Cain needled.

Sesshoumaru chuckled. "Gin was an . . . inquisitive child. After her father told her about the fight in Father's tomb, she was obsessed with the idea of seeing me transform. I finally told her that to make her stop. Didn't realize she'd cajole Toga into transforming for her."

"That bad?"

"Once Gin gets an idea in her head, she never lets it go. Anyway, it wasn't bad . . . until she wanted to take Toga home with her, in dog-form, of course."

"Really."

"I always found it odd . . ."

Cain stopped when Sesshoumaru paused at the base of a gnarled old magnolia tree. Staring up through the branches, he seemed to be looking for something, or maybe he was simply gathering his thoughts.

"Found what odd?" Cain prompted.

Sesshoumaru blinked and lowered his gaze to meet Cain's again. "I always found it odd that InuYasha's daughter could be so unlike her father."

"Maybe she takes after her mother," Cain mused, thinking of his own daughter; of Bellaniece's similarities to Isabelle.

"Possible," Sesshoumaru agreed. "Gin has always been . . . special to us, even to me."

It was strange to hear Sesshoumaru speaking at such length, especially about something as intensely personal as family. Cain wasn't sure what to say. He'd caught glimpses of the family bond. Even in the chaos of the tournament, he'd noticed how affectionate Gin was with everyone, and it hadn't been the first time he'd seen how cherished she was. Maybe that was part of the reason she was so different. She'd never had a reason to fear or to be sad. She'd been sheltered by all of that, hadn't she? Protected and adored, obviously the feelings had extended beyond those of her immediate family. He grimaced. Sesshoumaru's words . . . they sounded more like a warning.

"She has a way of . . . nudging her way into your heart, and the uncanny thing is how she doesn't even have to try."

Cain nodded. No, she didn't have to try; not at all.

They circled through the garden, ending up near the tall hedges that blocked the pool from view. Bellaniece had been thrilled by the idea of swimming, and Cain headed toward the opening to check on her. His daughter was splashing water at Sesshoumaru's granddaughters in the shallow end of the oblong pool. Giggling and playing, she looked happy, and Cain smiled.

"Bellaniece has grown into a beautiful young woman," Sesshoumaru commented.

"Yeah, she has."

"And she has yet to find her mate?"

Cain shrugged. "Not yet. There's no hurry."

"Of course not."

The sliding glass doors on the side of the house opened, and Cain did a double take as Gin stepped outside. The modest white one-piece bathing suit covered her completely, but there wasn't any way of hiding the blatantly feminine form of the young woman beneath. A stabbing ache shot through him---a longing that was both vicious and painful---and Cain grimaced as Gin draped the thick white towel she carried over the back of a chair. She giggled as the children called to her, and he watched her capture her hair in one hand over her shoulder, bending her knee and dipping her toes into the water to check the temperature before she sat down and lowered herself into the water with a little hiss of shock.

"She's . . . oh, my God . . ." Cain whispered, forgetting for the moment that he wasn't alone.

Sesshoumaru chuckled. "Careful, Zelig. InuYasha's Tetsusaiga was forged from the fang of my father. It is not a toy."

Cain flushed and shook his head, blinking quickly as he forced his gaze away from Gin. "Should I fear him? InuYasha?"

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed. "Do you have need to fear him?"

Cain sighed as a thoughtful scowl slipped over his features; as his scrutiny returned to her. "I could take him if I had to."

"I should certainly hope so."

'_You know, Cain . . . It's not InuYasha you should fear anyway_,' his youkai spoke up.

Cain smiled vaguely as Gin and Belle frolicked with the children. '_Oh?_'

'_Hell, no . . . Gin . . . Gin's the one you should fear_ . . .'

Cain sighed as Gin slowly turned, catching sight of him, smiling at him, and finally waving. '_Yeah. Yeah, I should_ . . .'

"Sesshoumaru," Kagura called as she stuck her head out the patio doors. "Your nephew is here."

Sesshoumaru nodded once and started away, but turned back to glance at Cain as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "You're as transparent as glass, you realize."

Cain nodded vaguely. Sesshoumaru shook his head and strode away.

Gin swam the length of the pool and caught the ladder to hoist herself out of the water. "Are you going to swim?" she asked as she ran over to Cain.

'_Gin . . . wet . . . Cain?_'

Cain cleared his throat and stepped back, needing more space between them as his breath caught in his lungs. Water clung to the tips of her eyelashes, ran down her cheek in tiny rivulets. Her body was covered in a blanket of goosebumps, and the plain white bathing suit hid absolutely nothing from his unwitting perusal. If she noticed his preoccupation, she didn't comment. Could she really be that unaware of just how devastating she was? '_Yeah_,' he thought with an inward wince. '_Yeah, she probably is_ . . .'

"Cain?" she repeated.

"Uh . . . I . . . err . . . No."

Gin giggled. "You sure? The water's really nice!"

"I . . . uh . . . water . . . no."

She tilted her head to the side and frowned. "Are you all right?"

"All right?" he echoed. "Yeah, yeah . . . fine."

She smiled. "Good," she said with a small shrug. "Maybe you should get something to drink. You look a little flushed."

Cain didn't move again until after Gin returned to the water.

'_Oh . . . damn_ . . .'

He forced his feet to move toward the doors, forced his eyes away from Gin. '_Uh huh . . . Damn's a good word . . . Damn, damn, damn_, damn . . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_Oh, Daddy_ . . .' 

Belle bit her lip and tried not to be too conspicuous as she watched Gin haul herself out of the pool and stride over to Cain. Cain's eyes widened, and he retreated a step, and Belle could only wish she could hear what they were saying. Coral and Cassidy were splashing too much for her to discern the conversation. Belle had a feeling that her father was suffering from an acute anxiety attack. She probably ought to feel a little more sympathetic toward Cain than she actually was. Then again, maybe not . . .

'_Your poor father_,' Belle's youkai lamented. '_Look at him! I don't think he has a clue, just what to make of Gin_ . . .'

'_Daddy's fine_,' Belle retorted. '_Gin's good for him. It's his own fault, he's being stubborn for no good reason_.'

'_He's got good reason! What about your mother?_'

Belle's smile dimmed. '_Mother's dead. Mother's been dead a very long time. Daddy . . . he needs Gin. She's the one, I can tell._'

'_Bellaniece_ . . .'

'_No, really! He doesn't get all aloof around her because . . . I don't know why, but he doesn't. He plays with her; he laughs with her . . . I've never seen him like that, like he was last night . . . I want him to be that way. Gin makes him happy; I know she does_.'

'_But it really isn't that simple. If it were_ . . .'

'_It _can_ be! It can be that simple! He's just got to want it, and I think . . . I think he's starting to_ . . .'

'_Just don't get your hopes up. I think you're wishing for something that might blow up in your face_.'

'_It's fate_,' Belle insisted. '_It has to be! I didn't know Gin was going to be here, and I'll bet Daddy didn't, either! It was an added bonus_.'

"Belle, do you think Cain looked strange?" Gin asked, standing up in the water after she swam the length of the pool.

Cassidy splashed Belle and Gin. Gin giggled and tossed the brightly colored blow up ball to the little girls.

"Strange? How so?"

Gin shrugged. "He was kind of flushed."

Belle grinned. "I think Daddy's just fine."

"You're sure?"

"Of course."

"You left early last night," Gin remarked as she caught the ball and tossed it back. "Were you feeling all right?"

Belle wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, fine . . . I was just tired."

Cassidy lunged at Gin, catching her around the neck and splashing happily. Gin rolled her eyes but smiled and dove under the water to make the child let go.

'_Last night_ . . .'

Belle sighed. '_Don't remind me_.'

'_Think you were a little harsh on Kichiro?_'

'_Absolutely not._'

'_Are you sure? I think he was trying to apologize_.'

Belle shook her head, pushing herself out of the pool to sit on the side with her legs hanging in the water. '_I don't want him to apologize. I just want him to stay away from me_.'

'_Do you really?_'

Belle swallowed hard, blinked rapidly to clear her suddenly blurring vision. '_Yes, I do_.'

'_He really was trying_.'

'_And you're taking his side? You know, it's fine, he can try, but the bottom line is that he . . . He was cruel, and he was mean, and he knew what he was doing. It's been the same all along, hasn't it? No, he's just_ . . .'

'_Just what, Belle?_'

'_Just_---'

"Hi."

Belle froze, back stiffening, chin snapping up at the sound of the soft voice right behind her. Close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek, close enough that she could feel the heat of him radiating to her . . . "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't come in today."

"Yeah, I . . . called in."

"Sure, you did."

Kichiro sighed. Belle shivered. "I came to talk to Sesshoumaru. What are you doing here?"

"I came with Daddy," she replied. "He's inside."

"Yeah, I know. I saw him. Pleasant, as always."

Kagura stuck her head outside. "Girls, your father's coming after you, so you need to come in now!"

Gin waved at her aunt. "I'll bring them in," she offered. Kagura waved back as Gin herded the girls out of the pool. "Hi, Kich," she greeted, pausing long enough to kiss her brother's cheek before grabbing her towel and wrangling the children toward the doors.

Belle hopped off the edge of the pool and waded toward the stairs. She should have known that Kichiro would follow her.

"About last night . . ."

"I don't want to talk about last night," Belle grumbled.

He grabbed her arm as she started to stomp away. "Belle, I---"

"Let go of me."

"Not until you listen."

"Let go of me, or I'll scream, and if I scream, my father will kill you."

He shook his head. "Look . . . oh, kami . . . where's your towel?"

Belle arched an eyebrow as she tugged her arm away and stepped back. "What's the matter, Dr. Izayoi? Haven't you ever seen a girl in her bathing suit before?"

"Don't challenge me now, wench," he growled as he looked around for the missing cloth. "Where the hell is it?"

She waited, pursing her lips, hands on her hips, and foot tapping impatiently as he finally found her towel and draped it over her shoulders. His hands were shaking when he let go. Belle snorted and jerked the towel off. "Just say what you wanted to say, you odious man," she bit out.

"Save it, Belle. I'm not arguing with you; not here---and put that towel on, will you?"

"No, I don't think I will," she countered.

"Listen, little girl---"

"Don't 'little girl', me. I think you can see that I'm anything _but_ a little girl," she taunted, holding her hands out as she turned slowly from side to side.

"Damn it---"

"Get a good look, Dr. Izayoi, because it's all you're ever going to get from me."

Kichiro cracked his knuckles and shook his head, jaw twitching in obvious irritation as he struggled to remain calm in light of her show of defiance. "I needed to tell you that I'm leaving as soon as I can get it arranged. Kelly's seems to be ready for surgery, so you can take the next six weeks or so off."

Belle's irritation dissolved as she dried her face on the towel. "Really? When are we leaving?"

"We?" Kichiro echoed.

"Well, yes, we . . . You don't think I'm staying here."

"Yeah, yeah, that's exactly what I thought."

Belle narrowed her eyes as she shook her head. "I'm going."

"No, you're not."

"I am."

"I thought you hated me. Why the hell would you want to go?"

"Don't flatter yourself," she shot back. "I'm not going for you. I'm going for Kelly. She's _my_ friend, and she needs me."

He looked like he was ready to scream at her. Eyes flashing, stance predatory, he looked like he was sorely pressed not to light into her. Something occurred to him, and he suddenly laughed. "We'll see, little girl. Your daddy will never agree to it."

"Sure he will. He knows how much my friends mean to me . . ."

"Friends or not, he won't let you go alone with me."

Belle smiled insincerely. "Why wouldn't he? He knows you're beneath me." With that, she wrapped the towel around her waist and strode toward the doors.

"Belle."

Against her better judgment, she stopped and peeked over her shoulder, hand stilled on the brass handle. Kichiro stood in the sunlight reflected off the shimmering water, hands casually in his pockets. He didn't intimidate her at all, and yet something in his eyes . . .

"If I was beneath you, I assure you, you would not be complaining."

Belle gasped at the implications of his claim. Whipping around red-cheeked, she jerked the door open and strode inside, leaving a smiling hanyou in her wake.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro chuckled until Belle was out of sight before the sound of amusement shifted into a groan of discomfort. 

'_Oh, damn, did I really say that?_'

'_Yeah, you did_,' his youkai replied with a chortle. '_Good place for us, really_ . . .'

There wasn't any real excuse for his comments, really . . . aside from the debilitating vision of Belle in the bikini from hell. The scant lavender material had barely covered a damn thing, and the v-shaped bottom had rose so high on her hips that her long legs had seemed just a little longer. The bikini top had contained 'the girls' well enough, but damned if it hadn't nearly brought Kichiro to his knees, seeing the tiny stream of water dripping down her cheek, down her throat, down her chest to disappear in the amply displayed cleft between her breasts.

'_Da-a-amn_ . . .'

'_As nice as it is to dream about that girl and her amazing rack, there're bigger fish to fry, you know_.'

Kichiro grimaced, letting his head fall back as he squeezed his eyes closed and tried to forget that course of dripping water. '_Like what?_'

'_Like the fact that she's probably inside insisting that she gets to go to America, too_.'

Grunting as he opened his eyes and started for the door. '_Oh, hell, no . . . There's no way . . . I can't be stuck alone with her for that long! She'd kill me!_'

'_Yeah, then you'd better get in there and try to stop her_,' his youkai warned, '_but you know, she does have a point_.'

Kichiro headed for the study. '_Yeah? What's that?_'

'_Kelly is her friend_.'

'_I know_.'

To his surprise, Belle wasn't in the study. Sesshoumaru and Cain were, though, and Kichiro stifled another sigh as he knocked on the half-closed door and waited.

"Come in."

Ignoring the obvious distaste on Cain's face when he strolled into the room, Kichiro sank down in the other chair facing his uncle's desk and nodded at the North American tai-youkai before turning his attention back to his uncle. "Did you find out anything?" he asked.

Sesshoumaru sat back and pondered Kichiro's request. "Yes, the plane will be ready to go by Wednesday. Does that suit your needs?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Just you?" Sesshoumaru questioned.

"Y---"

"I would like to go, too."

Stifling a groan, Kichiro was the only one who didn't look at Belle. Her father seemed surprised by her request. "Bellaniece, I don't think---"

"Please, Daddy . . . Kelly needs me. I want to be there for her."

"I'm sorry, but . . ."

"I won't be alone," Belle insisted, kneeling before her father and placing her hands on his arm. "Dr. Izayoi will be there . . ."

Cain shot Kichiro a menacing look. "Yeah, I realize that."

"Daddy . . ."

"No."

"I'm going there to do a surgery. I don't have time to baby-sit you," Kichiro growled.

Belle's telegraphed Kichiro a scathing glare. "You won't have to baby-sit me," she assured him. "I have no intention of getting in your way."

"Of course not," he agreed, "because you're not going."

"Daddy, you know I'm right," Belle cajoled.

Cain shook his head. "Bellaniece, it's not about right or wrong. You can't go traveling half-way around the world with an unmated hanyou."

Belle made a face. "Oh, him? He doesn't count. He's gay."

"I'm _not_---"

"He's _what?_" Sesshoumaru choked out.

Belle blinked innocently, and Kichiro wondered just how much trouble he'd be in if he turned the belligerent girl over his knee. "He's---"

"I'm not---"

"Gay!" they both finished together.

"Interesting," Sesshoumaru commented as he reached for the telephone.

"I'm not gay," Kichiro grumbled.

"So you see? I'd be perfectly safe from him . . . He's not interested in me, at all," Belle quipped happily.

"I'm not gay," Kichiro stated louder.

Cain shifted in his chair, scooting further away from Kichiro as he slowly shook his head at his daughter. "Still . . ."

"Am I interrupting?"

Kichiro smothered a low groan as Toga wandered into the study. "Yes," he growled.

"Quiet, dog," Toga said as he tapped a plastic DVD case against his hip. "Mother said that you were here, Zelig-sama."

Cain glanced up before dropping his forehead back into his hand again as Belle stood up.

"What do you want, baka?" Kichiro demanded. Something about his cousin's demeanor was far too smug for his liking. He didn't trust Toga; not at all.

Toga chuckled, a lazy grin breaking over his features as he dropped the DVD case on his father's desk.

"What's this?" Sesshoumaru asked.

Toga shrugged. "Just thought you'd find it as interesting as I did," he ventured.

Kichiro's eyes widened, and he lunged for the DVD. Sesshoumaru was faster, and Kichiro sank back down with a stifled groan as his uncle slipped the disc into the computer and waited.

He winced as his own voice broke the silence in the study, and he just couldn't look at what he knew he'd see.

"_Of course I . . . Yeah, hold still, baka_."

"_What? Fuck, no!_"

"_You offered_."

"_Balls, no, Kich! Get the hell away from me or I'll shred you!_"

"_Just hold still! I swear it'll only take a minute!_"

"_You really _are_ gay! Damn it, I said no!_"

"_I'm telling you, if you'd just stand still and take it like a man! Not like it'll hurt or anything_----"

"_Get the hell off me!_"

"_Just for a minute!_"

"_Will you leave me the fuck alone?_"

"_Yeah, whatever_."

"_Oh, balls . . . just do it fast, okay?_"

"_I . . . don't feel any difference_."

"_You know . . . I don't, either_."

"_Oh, for the love of kami! This is . . . oh this is _goo-o-ood."

Sesshoumaru turned the DVD off and frowned though Kichiro just knew his uncle was struggling not to react to the footage.

"Wow," Belle mused, her delight evident in her tone as she tried to keep from laughing.

Cain shook his head slowly. "All right . . . I didn't need to see that . . ."

"I found it amusing," Toga said with an indelicate cough.

"Toga," Kichiro choked out.

"You made your point," Cain admitted with a sigh. "Can he protect my daughter?"

Sesshoumaru shrugged. "Certainly. His orientation might be . . . questionable . . . but his skills are not."

Kichiro groaned.

"Does this mean I can go?" Belle asked cautiously.

Cain sighed again. "I guess so . . . but if anything happens to you---and I do mean anything---you'll have to find someone else to finish Kelly's surgeries."

Kichiro didn't trust himself to speak as Belle yelped and hugged her father.

'_You know, Kich . . . that was low_.'

'_Hell, yes, it was_,' he agreed as he shot to his feet and strode toward the door.

Toga clapped a hand on Kichiro's shoulder. Kichiro shrugged him off. "What, Toga, you bastard?"

Toga chuckled. "Maybe I am, but you know, I did you a favor."

"How do you figure?"

"Think I'm stupid?"

"Well---"

"I'm not. You think I don't know that she---" he jerked his head back toward the study, "---is the first girl who's ever gotten under your skin?"

"Do me a favor next time: don't help me."

"Yeah, whatever. Think of it this way: you get to spend the next few weeks crawling under her skin, now don't you?"

Kichiro groaned. Toga laughed.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_LOL, yes, Men's Pocky is real … look up Glicka brand Pocky … LMAO_!

* * *

**_Final Thought from Toga_**:

_Ah, revenge _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	28. Alone

**_Chapter 28_**

**_Alone

* * *

_**

Cain stood in the doorway of his daughter's bedroom and sighed as he tried not to think about just how empty the apartment felt without Bellaniece's presence.

She hadn't been away from home before---away from him---for more than one night before, and even that was rare. She would be away for at least six weeks; long enough to do preliminary testing before Kelly's surgery, and then to make sure she was healing well before they came back . . .

She was safe enough with Kichiro Izayoi, wasn't she? Gin had insisted that her brother would look out for Bellaniece . . . of course, that was after Cain had been told that the miscreant hanyou was gay. If it hadn't been for that video footage, he might not have believed that. Kichiro didn't seem gay . . . Still stranger things had been known to have happened before, and maybe there was some truth to the stories.

'_That's really not the reason you let Bellaniece go. You might not like Kichiro, but you know that he really will make sure Bellaniece is safe enough_.'

Cain sighed. That was true. Even if he didn't particularly care for Gin's family, he had to admit that they were trained well enough to make sure that she was always safe. It stood to reason that Kichiro could easily protect his daughter.

'_And it helps_,' he thought with a guilty grimace. '_The two genuinely seemed to despise one another, too_ . . .'

If he could get rid of the feeling that his daughter had slipped away from him, he'd be ahead of the game . . .

The telephone rang, and Cain spared one last long moment, staring around the room before pulling the door closed and striding over to answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, Daddy."

"Is everything okay?"

She giggled but sounded tired. "Yeah, I'm fine. Maybe a little jet-lagged. I just wanted to call and let you know we got here all right."

Cain sighed. "Good."

Bellaniece yawned. "I'll call you when I get up."

"Okay. Be careful."

"Mm, I will. Bye, Daddy."

"Bye, Bellaniece."

Cain let out his breath in a gust as he hung up the phone and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. She was so far away . . .

He sat down with a stack of sketches that he was supposed to look over for class the following morning. Shifting through them without actually inspecting them, he couldn't see anything but sparkling blue eyes that were always laughing, always happy. Bellaniece was such a beautiful baby; such a beautiful child . . . To know that she was so far away from him was a painful thing. From the first moment he'd held her in his arms, she'd become his sole reason for living.

_In those first few days after Bellaniece was born, Cain had been a little afraid of her; this strange little person who had invaded his life. She didn't cry very often. Content to lie in a bassinet so long as she was near enough to see or smell him, Bellaniece only fussed when she was hungry or needed to be changed. In the time before the numbness set in, Cain would stare at Bellaniece for hours. In her eyes, he could will away the pain of loss, and in her eyes, he could find the strength to wake up in the morning because she needed him_ . . .

_It hadn't taken Cain long to realize that he had to get himself and Bellaniece out of Florida. Memories were too prevalent, too painful, and after the investigation into Isabelle's death was over, he'd taken Bellaniece and moved, leaving everything behind only to have professional movers pack their things and deliver them. Most of Isabelle's effects were still in boxes, hidden away in one room in the mansion. It was too painful a thing. Cain could neither deal with sorting through it all nor come to terms with the idea of getting rid of it. Maine provided a haven, and that was the place Bellaniece called home_.

_He'd been with her when she first pushed herself onto her hands and knees and crawled around the grass under the white ash tree behind the mansion. He'd seen her take her first steps, praised her when she said her first word. Her voice had been like little silver bells, and her laughter . . . Her laughter had always made him smile_.

A lifetime of memories that shouldn't have been his assailed him, and yet he couldn't be sorry for having them, either. Cain leaned forward, dropped the sketches on the table and buried his face in his hands. '_Be safe, Bellaniece . . . Daddy . . . Daddy loves you_ . . .'

The knock on the door was loud, jarring. Cain jerked upright and stood up.

"Cain! Cain! Are you in there?" Gin's voice was panicked, worried, and he hurried to the door, wincing as the upset in her youki burned him before he could even open the door.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked as she threw herself against him. He glanced over her shoulder but saw nothing; only the empty hallway as Gin's heart raced, as she struggled to breathe and squeezed him tighter, burying her face in his shirt. "Gin?"

"It's-a-rat-a-_huge_-rat-_big_-rat-_huge_---" she mumbled, her voice muffled by his body. "Big-big-_big_-rat-_bi-i-ig_-Cain!"

"Where?" he asked gently, leaning to the side to push the door closed. "Come on, Gin, you're tougher than that, aren't you?"

"In my apartment!" she blurted, burrowing her face deeper into the fabric of his shirt. "It was _big_, and it was _hairy_, and it _glared_ at me, and it hissed my name: '_Gi-i-i-in!_'"

Tamping down the urge to laugh, Cain gently pushed Gin away enough to tilt her chin up and look into her eyes. She was terrified, no doubt about that. "Do you want me to go look for it?" he asked reasonably as she quickly shook her head. "No?"

She shook her head again. "It'll eat you! I'm serious; it's huge!"

"How huge?"

Gin held her hands out, shoulder-width apart. "This big!"

"Really."

She nodded. "At least!"

"Are you sure? That'd be a . . . really big rat."

"Cain, I'm serious."

He tried not to smile. '_She's really afraid of a rat? But that's_ . . .' He scowled. "I know you are. You want me to go kill it?"

"Yes," she said then shook her head. "No."

He chuckled. "I can't do both."

She sighed. "I want you to catch it and take it far away from me, but I . . . don't kill it."

Cain shook his head; scowl deepening as he leaned his head, trying to figure out if she was being serious. "You want me to catch it . . . and set it free again?"

"Yes, but not near the building."

He thought it over and shrugged. "Okay. You've got to let go of me then."

Her arms tightened. "Wait!"

With a defeated sigh, Cain wrapped his arms around Gin for a moment. "You've got to calm down. Your heart feels like it's trying to jump right out of your chest."

She whimpered.

"It's okay. It's just a rat. Stay here, and I'll take care of it."

"Okay."

This time, she let go of him, eyes nervously darting around his apartment as though she half-expected a rat to come barreling out from behind the furniture. With a little squeal, she ran toward the sofa, launching herself into the air about ten feet from it and landing neatly, feet tucked under her and hands twisting together in her lap.

Cain pressed his lips together and counted to ten before he dared to speak. "You stay there, and I'll be right back."

Gin nodded, ears flattening as her fingers knotted into a perverse-looking lump of wiggling flesh. "Cain, wait!"

"Yes?"

She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and punched in a number. Cain's phone rang, and he grabbed it off the table by the door. "Okay, Gin."

Gin nodded again. "All right. Be careful because it's really, _really_ big."

Cain winced as Gin chewed her nail and tried to smile. Acting before he could think about it, he strode over and kissed her forehead. She tried to smile---it was more of a grimace---and Cain pressed the cell phone to his ear before heading out of the apartment.

Her apartment was exactly how he figured she left it. "Gin? You all right?"

"Yes," she squeaked.

Cain winced. "Where did you see the rat?" he asked.

Gin gripped the phone tight. He could hear the creak of the plastic device, and he only hoped that she wouldn't break it. "In the kitchen."

Cain sniffed the air and frowned. He smelled something, but it was faint; hardly enough to account for a rat, let alone a huge rat, as Gin had claimed.

"Have you found it?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Not yet," Cain answered. "I smell it, though . . . Gin?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure it was a _huge_ rat?"

"Yes."

He stifled a sigh and made a face. "Okay."

Cain listened closely, could hear the faint scratch of something coming from behind the stove. "Hold on," he told Gin before he set the phone on the counter. He could hear Gin's frightened whining but concentrated instead on pulling the oven away from the wall. A flash of movement caught his eye, a terrified squeak made him grimace. His hand moved in a blur, and he blinked as he stared at the tiny mouse dangling by its tail from his thumb and forefinger. '_This . . . is Gin's_ rat?'

He dug a plastic container out of the cupboard and shook his head as he dropped the frightened little beast into it for safekeeping and slapped the lid on before he pushed the oven back into place. "Okay, I caught it," he said as he picked up the phone and held up the container to eye the mouse.

"You did?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yeah . . . I think you should see it though . . . make sure this is the one."

"No!" she yelped. "Cain, no!"

Cain rolled his eyes as he shut off the lights and headed for the door. "It's fine, Gin. I've got it contained. It can't hurt you. Do you believe me?"

". . . Yes," she finally said. "But---"

Cain wedged the phone between his ear and his shoulder, freeing his hand to open the door. Gin's eyes widened as she caught sight of the container, and Cain winced as she unleashed an ungodly, blood-curdling howl into the silent apartment. Dropping her phone as she shot to her feet atop the sofa, her legs pistoning up and down, hands waving wildly as she nearly toppled over the high back; she looked even more terrified than she had when she'd first thrown herself into his arms. Cain hurriedly stuck the container in the hallway on the floor before turning back to Gin with a dumbfounded look on his face. "For the love of God, Gin! What the---"

The tears running down her cheeks stopped him, and Cain winced, feeling like an ogre in one of Bellaniece's bedtime stories---the ogre that made the fairy princess cry. "I'm sorry . . . I'll get rid of it, right now."

"D-d-don't k-k-kill it," she sobbed.

"Okay, I won't," he assured her. "Let me go get rid of it, okay?"

Gin sank down, bunching up her shoulders miserably as she sniffled and tried not to cry. "O-okay."

Cain shook his head. That wasn't normal, not at all. Gin's reaction to seeing the mouse would have been more rational had the creature not been contained. The most important thing at the moment, however, was getting the mouse away from Gin because she wasn't calming down at all. Her fear had swelled into something far worse, and he grimaced as the girl in question peeked over the edge of the sofa, eyes scanning the perimeter of the room for any signs of movement. How could a girl like her be that terrified of something as insignificant as a tiny mouse that couldn't hurt her?

'_Does that matter, Cain? Get the mouse out of here. Worry about Gin's phobia later_.'

'_Yeah, yeah . . . I'm going to_. . .'

His youkai snorted. '_Pfft! Good thing she's not your mate. You scared the crap out of her with that little beast._'

Cain ignored the jab at his pride as he grasped the door handle. No, there was definitely more to it, if she would tell him what it was . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin didn't feel safe. Despite the knowledge that she was being completely irrational, despite the knowledge that there really weren't any rats in Cain's apartment, she couldn't shake the idea that there _were_ rodents prowling under furniture, little beasts hiding in the shadows just waiting to attack her. 

The sofa wasn't high enough.

Peering over the edge of the plush tan suede cushion, Gin bit her bottom lip as her eyes darted back and forth. More than once, she thought she saw movement. More than once, she stifled a scream. She hated rats and everything she deemed to bear a close enough resemblance to rats; _hated_ them. She also couldn't seem to convince herself that it was just a tiny thing, and that rats and mice couldn't hurt her.

Her cell phone rang, and Gin nearly shrieked again. She fumbled with it, hands shaking so badly she could barely turn it on. When she finally did, Cain's voice was calm, soothing. "Gin? You okay?"

"Yes," she squeaked.

Cain sighed. "You don't sound okay."

"Where are you?" she asked as she pushed herself to her feet atop the sofa.

"I'm a couple blocks over. Just let the . . . rat go."

Gin grimaced, bending her knees as she prepared herself to leap onto the kitchen table. It was higher. She'd be safe there . . .

"What are you doing? Why did I hear a thump?"

"No reason," she assured him. "I wanted to be higher. I just can't stand rats," she whispered.

"Is there a reason for that?" he asked a little too casually. "Do you want your plastic container back?"

"The one the _rat_ was in?" she squeaked. "No! No, Cain, _no!_"

"Okay," ---she heard a dull clink-thump as Cain chucked the plastic container--- "it's gone."

"Thank you," she muttered, ears flattening as she crouched in the middle of the table. "I'm stupid. I just . . . I _really_ hate rats."

"You're not stupid. It's all right," he told her. "I'll be up in a minute. Just sit tight till I get there."

She was about to beg him not to hang up, but the phone went dead, and she whimpered.

'_It's all my stupid brothers' faults_,' she thought sourly, face shifting into a petulant scowl as she smashed her hands against the table between her feet.

'_You're rational enough to know that it is just a fear, Gin. There aren't really giant rats like that, no matter what the baka boys told you_.'

Gin sighed. She knew that, absolutely. It was another thing, however, to remember it when she was staring at a rat---or a mouse---or even a rabbit, and opossums? She shuddered. '_Forget about it_ . . .'

Cain opened the door and stepped into the apartment, gaze sweeping over the sofa where he'd left her and registering surprise just before he located her, sitting atop the dining table. He started to say something but barely had time to react as she launched herself off the table, straight into his arms. "Thank kami," she whimpered, burying her face in the crook of his neck as he stumbled back a step, hurrying to wrap his arms around her before he dropped her.

"Is it so bad?" he asked gently, clumsily patting her back as he strode over to the sofa and sat down with Gin on his lap.

"I hate them," she mumbled. "I hate them, I hate them, _I hate them!_"

"Suppose you tell me why you hate them so much," he prodded, cradling her in his elbow, nestled against his shoulder as he smoothed back her hair. "You're bigger than they are . . . not by much, but you are."

Gin sighed and shook her head, self-disgust evident in the lines of her face. "When I was little, Ryomaru and Kichiro used to tell me that there were giant rats living in the forest, and that they were waiting to . . . to _eat_ me. They said that the rats loved little girls, and that they'd already lost four sisters that way."

"How old were you?"

She made a face. "Three . . . four . . . I don't remember . . . Once they caught a rat and put it in my doll house." She uttered a little whimper. "I didn't know it was there, and it bit me. I had to have a tetanus shot for that . . . and a rabies shot, too. I mean, I'm not scared of those now---shots, I mean . . . but when I was little, those needles were . . . they were _big_ . . ."

"Aww, they were just teasing you, weren't they? About the rats eating baby sisters?"

She sighed again. "I know; I know . . . I just . . . Ryomaru used to hide outside my room and hiss, '_Gi-i-i-i-in!_' and swear it was the rats . . . and I've never liked them, not since that. They used to scratch on my door in the middle of the night. I was just sure that the rats were coming to eat me."

"Sounds like they needed their asses kicked. Didn't your papa do anything about that?"

Gin shrugged and sat up a little. "I never told Papa. He would have been furious." She drew a deep breath and let her temple fall against Cain's shoulder, her fingers toying idly with the length of his ponytail. "It's stupid, right? I mean, I know that they can't really hurt me . . ."

"Fear isn't normally rational, Gin. It's okay to be afraid sometimes."

She nodded, scowling as she watched herself wrap his hair around her finger. "Cain? Have you ever been afraid?"

A million images flashed through his head: Isabelle's strange smile as her life faded away . . . Blood on his claws, the sickening stench of blood filling his nose . . . The bleakness of a void of years he saw whenever he took his eyes off his infant daughter . . . Bellaniece's tears on the first day of kindergarten . . . Old fears that somehow were just as real to him as they were back then . . . and the newest fears he'd only recently discovered . . . "Yeah, I've been afraid."

She snuggled closer, hand resting over his heart. "Are you ever afraid now?"

Closing his eyes against the sight of her in his arms, Cain swallowed hard as a different sort of dread rose in him. "Sometimes," he admitted as he tightened his hold on her. "Sometimes I am."

"I don't want you to be afraid anymore," she said quietly.

Cain didn't answer as he let his cheek rest against her temple.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain stared at the ceiling and stifled a sigh, smacking his head back against the lumpy pillow to try to get more comfortable on the stupidly small couch. 

'_You know, you've got a perfectly good bed in there_.'

He snorted. '_Pfft! There's also a perfectly adorable Gin in that bed_.'

'_Incidentals. It's your bed_.'

'_I'll ignore that, thanks_.'

'_You're really a sucker, you know it? Gin would share with you . . . and I'm pretty sure she wouldn't bite, either_.'

'_Yes, well, that's not the problem_.'

'_You should have thought of that before you decided she could stay with us, don't you think?_'

'_Shut up, will you?_'

The real problem wasn't sleeping on the sofa. It was trying to sleep and knowing that Gin was in his apartment, in his room, in his bed.

_She'd been too frightened to go home. She tried to. She told him she'd be fine, and she left the apartment with every intention of going back to hers. It hadn't surprised him when, moments after she walked out, she knocked on his door, eyes bright with worry, teeth gnawing on her lower lip. "You want to stay here tonight?" he'd asked her, ignoring the voice of common sense; the one that said it was a mistake to let her sleep there_.

"_If I won't be in the way," she'd said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, wringing her hands as she tried to look nonchalant_.

"_Come on, Gin. You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the sofa_."

"_Oh, no," she gasped, shaking her head as she took a step back in retreat_.

"_It's fine. I don't mind," he told her_.

"_If . . . if you're sure . . . I could sleep on the couch_."

But he had insisted, hadn't he, and now Gin was lying in his bed, and that was the only thing that Cain could think about . . .

"Cain, are you sleeping?" Gin asked as she padded into the living room. Turning his head to look at her in the darkness, he blinked and rolled over, leaning up on his elbow. In the darkened room and shadowed in the thin light of the nearly full moon, she stood, hair shining silvery blue, wrapped in a pristine white sheet with a pillow tucked under one arm.

"I'm awake," he told her. "You hear another rat, did you?"

She shook her head and sighed, shuffling over to him. "No . . . I feel bad. I can sleep out here. Really, I don't mind."

"It's fine. I'll call the exterminator for you, first thing in the morning, okay? Go back to bed."

Gin dropped the pillow on the floor beside the sofa and started to lie down.

"What are you doing?"

"I can sleep here, if you're going to sleep there. It's sort of like a campout."

Cain shook his head. "Come here, Gin."

"What?"

"Come here," he repeated.

Gin looked a little reluctant but crawled over to him---no small feat, wrapped up as she was in the sheet. He caught her under the arms and pulled her up on the sofa beside him. She curled up against him and sighed happily. "Are you comfortable?" she asked as she wiggled around a little.

"Sure," Cain lied.

"Good . . ."

He sighed. "Night, Gin."

"Goodnight. If you want, I can make breakfast for you in the morning."

"You'll have to," he agreed. "You didn't make a cake for me."

Gin gasped and started to sit up. Cain caught her and trapped her against him, gently but firmly. "I was teasing, you know. Breakfast would be nice, thanks."

Gin relaxed, her fingers twining in his hair. "Okay."

She asleep within minutes. Cain was awake well into the night.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain's Youkai_**:

… _Sucker _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	29. Kelly

**_Chapter 29_**

**_Kelly

* * *

_**

"I could go alone," Belle pointed out reasonably as she rinsed her juice glass and set it beside the sink, upside down, on a terrycloth dishtowel.

Kichiro snorted.

"Really, I _do_ know where the hospital is. Heaven forbid you should walk into Kelly's room with that scowl on your face. She'd think you were going to rip her head off."

That earned her a sidelong glower as Kichiro downed a cup of black coffee.

Belle sighed. "Have it your way, Dr. Demento. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Slipping on her sandals, Belle held her hand out for Kichiro's mug. He stared at her fingers for a moment before slapping the cup into her waiting palm. "More," he grumbled.

Belle rolled her eyes. "That's not why I was waiting for the cup, but fine," she retorted, pouring the last of the coffee into the mug and praying that it somehow improved his mood.

Kichiro snatched the mug, slurped down the scalding liquid, grimaced, and thumped the cup onto the table before standing up and stomping out of the kitchen.

Belle watched him go, shaking her head slowly, and washed out the mug.

"Move it, wench, or you can just stay here!" he hollered from the direction of the foyer.

'_God save me from morons and irritated hanyous . . . or give me wisdom to hide his body after I kill him _. . .' she thought as she dried her hands and tossed the towel in the direction of the counter before wheeling around to run after him. With as bad as his mood was, she didn't doubt for a moment that he would make good on his threat.

He was already in the rental car, revving the engine when she slipped out of the mansion and checked the door to make sure it was locked. Apparently he didn't like that, either, because she jumped and whirled around when he literally laid on the horn. Deliberately slowing her pace as she descended the stairs and approached the waiting car, she didn't miss Kichiro's marked eye-rolling or his claws drumming impatiently on the steering wheel.

"Someone's testy today," she remarked in a bright tone as she slipped into the car. Kichiro gunned the engine and squealed the tires as Belle yelped and scrambled to close the door before she fell out. "What's your problem?" she demanded, smashing her hand over her heart as she turned to glare at the hanyou.

"Nothing," he grumbled, reaching across her to yank her seatbelt over her. She jerked the buckle out of his hand and glared at him as she hooked it, herself.

"Really? Then you just thought I'd look better with a nice case of road rash?"

"Shut it, little girl," he growled. "I'm not in the mood for you."

"Fine, I will, just as soon as you tell me why you're being such an ever-loving ass today."

Kichiro slammed on the breaks at a country stop sign and glared at Belle. "Never mind," he grumbled. "It doesn't matter."

"Oh, I think it does."

He sighed. "I didn't sleep for shit, okay?"

Belle frowned. "Why's that? I slept like a baby."

"Of course you did," he snarled, peeling out as he munched the gas.

"Were you cold?"

"No."

"Hot?"

"No?"

"Lumpy mattress?"

"No."

"Too noisy?"

"No."

"Not noisy enough?"

"Fuck---"

"Then why not?"

"That place stinks," he yelled.

"Stinks?" she echoed. "It doesn't---"

"The hell it doesn't!" he bellowed. "It reeks of your old man, and _that_ stinks!"

Belle sighed. "It _is_ his house, you know."

Kichiro made a face. "Yeah, well, we'll be finding a hotel, thanks."

"Fine," she retorted. "Unless you want a Motel 6, the closest _nice_ one is in Eastport . . . forty miles away. Knock yourself out, but I'm staying at my house."

Kichiro sighed. "Damn it . . ."

Belle gripped the door handle as Kichiro whipped around a very sharp turn. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"No," he growled.

"Then slow down, will you? I'd rather just _visit_ the hospital."

"Feh!"

At least he slowed down, though, and Belle felt reasonably safe enough to let go of the door handle. "You could have said something, you know."

"About what?"

She had to count to ten before she dared answer him. "About having trouble sleeping. I didn't know. I hadn't thought about that."

"Look, it's not your fault. I just . . ." he trailed off, tapping his palm against the steering wheel as if he were having trouble figuring out how to put his feelings into words. "It's a different place, is all. It always takes me awhile to adjust. Part of our training, I guess. We just have difficulty getting used to new places, at least for a few nights."

Belle nodded. She'd had that trouble, too, just after she and Cain arrived in Japan. Maybe it was an inherited trait of youkai and hanyous. Never trust your surroundings . . . Add jetlag to that, and, well, it wasn't really any wonder just why Kichiro was so grouchy . . .

"We don't have to go to see Kelly today . . . I mean, if you're still tired . . ."

Kichiro snorted. "Feh! I have to order a few tests, and she needs to have the procedure explained to her."

Belle gazed out the window at the passing scenery. She'd seen it all before, and yet there was something different about it now. She wasn't sure why she felt that way, but it seemed like she hadn't really seen it before. Maybe it had been too long since she was last here . . .

The rest of the twenty minute drive was quiet. Kichiro didn't turn on the radio, and considering his present mood, Belle didn't try, either. By the time they pulled into the hospital parking garage, Belle was ready to scream from the pervasive tension that seemed overwhelming in the confines of the vehicle. She stumbled out the door and breathed deep.

Kichiro muttered something about checking in at the chief of staff's office, and Belle nodded as she hurried off to find Kelly's room.

She'd been moved out of critical care to one of the double occupancy rooms in the burn unit. Kelly didn't have a roommate at present, but Belle lingered outside the door. As excited as she was to see her friend, she wasn't sure how Kelly would feel, and she didn't know how Kelly would look, either.

"I know you're there, Belle."

Grimacing as she realized a moment too late that Kelly was full youkai and could smell her even if she didn't see her, Belle ducked her head and shuffled into the room. "Hey, Kel."

Kelly was sitting up facing the window in an oversized white terrycloth robe. Belle couldn't see her face, but her long brown hair pooled around her, and just for a moment, Kelly hadn't changed, at all. "So where's this doctor you've convinced to take on a charity case like me?" Kelly joked.

Belle winced at the underlying terseness in Kelly's teasing question. She wanted to hug Kelly, but she didn't know if she was healed enough for that not to hurt. "Who cares? He's kind of a jerk."

"A jerk? He can't be too much of a jerk if he's doing my surgery for free."

"Maybe you're a tax write off or something. I assure you, he really is a top-of-the-line, Grade-A jerk."

"You sound like you don't like him, at all."

She winced. She hadn't really meant to let her feelings toward Kichiro Izayoi show, and especially not to Kelly. "Yeah . . . Anyway, how have you been?"

Kelly slowly turned her head, stared up at Belle with an indiscernible frown. "I've had better days," she replied. "You look good.

Belle swallowed hard. Kelly's face looked much better than it had, but she had to admit to herself, it was difficult to look at her friend like that. "I'm okay . . . what about you?"

"I don't know . . . some days I hate this place---I mean _really_ hate this place. Others . . ." Kelly shrugged. "Other days I think maybe I'm safer here than anywhere. At least no one can gawk at me or point at me or . . ." she trailed off with a sigh and shrugged. "You know what it's like . . . or maybe you don't."

"Kelly . . ."

"It's okay, Belle. I'm glad you weren't there. I was stupid, and . . . and you were right."

A knock on the doorframe drew Belle's attention. Kelly turned back to face the window again as Kichiro strode into the room. "Maybe you should wait in the hall, little girl, so the big people can talk."

Belle narrowed her eyes at him and wrinkled her nose, unable to resist taking one parting shot at him before she left them alone. "Hey, Kel. This is Dr. _Gay_lord. Have fun."

"Dr. Gaylord? I thought your name was Iza---"

"It is," Kichiro growled, shooting Belle a murderous scowl. "That's Belle-chan's idea of a cute joke."

"I'll be back later," Belle told Kelly. "Don't choke on your own feet, doctor."

Kichiro mumbled something that Belle was probably better off not hearing as she slipped out of the room and into the hallway.

She considered going after a soda or something that Kelly probably didn't get often, but discarded the idea when Kichiro started to speak in a tone that Belle hadn't heard him use before. He spoke with a softness, a gentleness, and the sound of it touched Belle. Curiosity got the better of her, and she pushed the door open a crack to listen.

"I've ordered a couple of tests to make sure you're ready for the surgery, but I wanted to stop in and see if you had any questions or concerns."

Kelly cleared her throat. "Does it hurt?"

"A little. Less than it did when you were first burned." He leaned against the window sill, tapping the clipboard holding a manila file against his thigh. "Kelly . . . about the surgery . . . There's been extensive damage, and I'm probably going to have to do this in a couple of operations, and maybe a third one to repair any structural damage that I don't see during the grafts. I need to warn you, you're not going to look exactly like you did before the surgery."

"I see."

"I'm a plastic surgeon. This is what I do. No worries, okay?"

Kelly nodded. "Okay."

"Any other questions?"

"Not right now. If you make me look normal again, you'll be my hero."

Kichiro dug a small white card out of his pocket and handed it to Kelly. "This is my cell number, and if you have any concerns at all, call me, even if it's the middle of the night. If you think of a question or just want something clarified . . . I mean it, okay?"

"Yeah," she agreed, ducking her head as she stared at the card in her hands.

Belle swallowed the lump that thickened in her throat and slipped away from the door. Kichiro . . . he didn't make sense. For weeks now, he'd been nasty and mean, snide and rude to her, and here he was, moments after meeting Kelly . . .

'_Did you want him to be rude to her?_'

'_Of course not!_' Belle scoffed as she strode over to the stairwell and ran lightly down the steps. '_Did he have to tell her that? Did he have to tell her that she'd never, ever look the same?_'

'_But that's what's bothering you, isn't it? That he's nice as can be to Kelly and rude as hell to you_.'

'_No, that's not it_ . . .'

'_Oh, really? Then what is 'it'?_'

'_I'm glad he's being nice to Kelly. Saves me the trouble of yelling at him later_.'

'_Ah . . . I don't know why he's so mean to you, either_.'

Belle stopped on the landing between floors and rubbed her forehead, heaving a heavy sigh. '_I don't care_ . . .'

Her youkai sighed, too. '. . . _I know you don't_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro awoke from a restless nap, gazing around in complete disorientation; the only thing making sense to him was the sound of his cell phone's ring. "Izayoi," he mumbled, stifling a sigh as he sat up and scowled at the unfamiliar surroundings of the Zelig guest bedroom he'd been installed in for the duration of his stay. 

"Hello, Kichiro. I just wanted to make sure you made it all right, since you didn't call me to let me know . . ."

He grimaced. "Sorry, Mama. Jetlagged still, but the flight was okay. How's everything there?"

"Fine . . . Your brother's still up in arms over the idea of your father and me having another baby---or at least the how of it---other than that, though, it's all status quo . . . By the way, do you know why Ryomaru's taking cooking classes?"

Kichiro chuckled. "No idea. He won't tell me a damn thing."

"Hmm . . . I might have to do some investigating . . ."

"You mean snooping."

"I mean . . . yeah, snooping works."

"You know, the old man hates it when you do that," Kichiro pointed out as he stood up and wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling windows running the length of the eastern wall facing the ocean.

"Speaking of snooping . . . How's Bellaniece's friend? Kelly's her name, right?"

"Yeah, Kelly . . . she seems to be ready, but I think another couple weeks would do her some good before the surgery. I think she'll be okay . . ."

"And Bellaniece?"

"What about Belle?"

"How is she?"

"Annoying."

"Kichiro . . ."

He sighed. "Never mind, she's fine."

"All right. Don't forget, your sister's birthday is next week. You'd better remember to call her."

"Yes, Mama."

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

He hung up the phone and dropped it in his breast pocket as he stared out the window. The scenery, he had to admit, was remarkable here. The beach below reminded him of a postcard or a painting. Simple yet beautiful, the ocean was so close but seemed almost tame. It reminded him of the Izayoi beach house back home. Simpler times, simpler emotions . . .

Lifting his gaze to the top of a rocky crag that balanced over the edge of the water, Kichiro scowled. Bronze hair whipping back in the breeze as the salty air molded the simple white cotton dress against Belle's body; she stood alone, staring out over the ocean. Arms wrapped over her stomach, she was too far away for him to see her face, but for some crazy reason, he thought maybe she was crying.

'_Don't be stupid, Kich. Belle don't cry._'

No, she didn't cry, did she? She'd been unusually quiet on the ride back to the mansion. She'd barely spoken two words to him before he'd gone to lie down. Still . . . Belle wasn't the kind of girl who cried, he knew that. She could give as good as she got. She didn't have a problem telling him when he'd been a complete and utter ass, did she? "Feh! She doesn't cry . . ."

Kichiro snorted at his thoughts and turned away from the window. Even then, why would she cry? He hadn't done anything . . . well, nothing he didn't normally do . . .

Without stopping to think about it, he strode over to his door, yanked it open, jogged down the hallway and through the mansion toward the back door.

She was still there when Kichiro reached her. Standing with her back to him, the scent of salt from the ocean hindering him from discerning whether or not she really was crying, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and carefully climbed up the sloping incline to reach her. "Belle?"

She didn't react to his voice at all, just stared far away, over the ocean, ignoring the hair that whipped into her face, ignoring Kichiro completely.

"You're not thinking about jumping, are you?" he tried to tease.

"You're not thinking about pushing me, are you?" she countered.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're a jerk face," she answered simply.

Kichiro winced. "All right, I deserved that. You . . . okay?"

"Never better."

"Really."

"It's windy out here . . . are you cold?"

She laughed almost sadly, her gaze as deep and dark as the ocean. "No."

"You're mad at me."

Belle shook her head. "I'm not."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not." She turned to stare at him, lips turned in an ironic little smile. "Okay, maybe I am . . . Those things you said to Kelly . . . why did you tell her that?"

Crossing his arms over his chest as the wind whipped his braid with a ruthless abandon, Kichiro shrugged and tried to figure out just what she was thinking. "What things?"

"It was a little cruel, to tell her that she'd never look the same again, wasn't it?"

Kichiro shook his head. "You think that it'd be better for her to go into this with impossible expectations; that she'd be exactly the same when she came out of the reconstruction? She won't, Belle. It's not possible. She can accept that. Why can't you?"

"I can accept it," she argued. "I just thought it wasn't the nicest thing to tell her."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with a weary hand. "And would it have been nicer to let her find out later instead of preparing her for it first?"

Belle shook her head. "You don't get it, do you? It's about hope, and about the wish to be normal. Can you understand that?"

Kichiro kicked the rocks, shuffled his feet as he tried to find a way to explain things to Belle in a way she'd comprehend. "You know . . . your father's an artist. He can see something in the world, not in the way we do, but in the way he wants to see it. He can alter things and make it better. He can shift colors and change textures and make things appear perfect. In the real world, that's not possible. It's petty and ugly and cruel, and sometimes the truths we deal with aren't things that can be glossed over or prettied up. I live in the real world. Kelly lives in the real world. You need to live in the real world, too."

"That's a pretty speech," Belle said softly. "It's easy for you to say things like that, to hide under your mask of superiority. I'm not talking about ignoring facts. I'm talking about letting someone believe just a little longer that sometimes those ugly truths you're talking about can be fixed."

"And that would be kinder? You really believe that?" Kichiro shook his head and sighed. "I didn't tell her those things to be cruel. If you can't understand that, then maybe you need to ask yourself just why you picked me to be her savior. I'm just a surgeon. I'm not a hero."

Belle turned back toward the ocean, lifted her face as she closed her eyes. The delicate contours of her features outlined against the hazy blue of the afternoon sun converged into an image that burned itself into his mind. She was soft and beautiful, wild and mysterious, and so far out of his reach that Kichiro had to step back, as though he didn't deserve to be near her . . . as if the culmination of heaven and earth had collided, had met, had gathered in this one woman.

"I never asked you to be her hero," she whispered without opening her eyes. "I never asked you to do anything but to give Kelly the surgery."

"No, Belle, that's exactly what you did. You didn't ask me to do her surgery. You asked me to perform a miracle."

"Yeah . . . okay. Maybe I did. I read all the articles, and heard all the hype about this brilliant surgeon in Tokyo. I heard whispers that you'd figured out how to perform the traditional marking without the need for the brutality of it, and maybe I thought that you'd be able to fix Kelly, too."

Narrowing his gaze as he stared at her, something else occurred to him. "You think it's your fault that Kelly was burned, don't you?"

She masked her surprise well but not well enough to hide it from him. She shot him a quick look then hurriedly turned away. The flush in her cheeks, the startled light in her eyes . . . she _did_ think she was to blame. Kichiro waited for her to speak.

"Does it matter?"

"Of course, it does."

Belle shrugged, scrunching her shoulders as she wrapped her arms tighter around herself. "I might have been able to stop her. I got irritated and left her. I'll never know because . . . because I didn't stay. If I had, maybe . . . Maybe I could have kept it from happening."

Kichiro sighed. "Maybe. Then again, maybe you'd be lying in the bed beside her. Have you thought of that?"

"Of course I have. Does that make me a monster?"

"No more than my inability to completely restore her would make me a failure."

Belle drew a deep breath, shook her head slowly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone," she finally said.

Kichiro nodded as he turned away. The girl confounded him. If she ever said anything that he expected, he'd be amazed. She wasn't the same here. In this place that she called home, there was an intangible change in her that he didn't fully understand. She looked the same on the outside but there was a subtle difference in the girl; something pensive and sad; a part of her that seemed just beyond his grasp.

He'd like to think that he was simply noticing things about her for the first time, but he knew that wasn't really the case. Something about being here made her sad, and Kichiro . . . He didn't like that at all. Belle had become a mystery to him: a beautiful girl with a look in her eyes that could wound him. He didn't want her to be unhappy. He didn't want to see those shadows behind her gaze: the lingering ghosts that haunted her.

She challenged him, irritated him, pushed him to his limits. There were things about her that drove him mad but those same things were the very reasons that he was compelled to be near her. She'd probably never make sense to him. He didn't doubt at all that she'd delight in trying his patience. Why did he feel like she'd be worth it; absolutely, unequivocally worth it? How was it that he just knew that Belle was a girl---a woman---he wouldn't mind having around for a long, long time?

He didn't look back at her until he was on the porch. Belle was sitting, legs folded neatly to the side, back straight and proud as she gazed off into the distance in silent contemplation.

'_She's really something, ain't she?_'

Kichiro leaned against the doorframe and sighed. '_Yeah, she is_.'

Belle caught her hair, pulled the length of it over her shoulder but didn't look back.

'_You know, she's trouble . . . big trouble . . . but maybe she'd be worth the effort _. . .?'

Kichiro grimaced. Trouble? Absolutely, but maybe she really was worth the effort . . .

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_I've said this before, but I'll say it again because it seems to me that there might be a problem with this that seems pervasive: When trying to read chapters (or check for chapters), there are times when Internet browsers (Internet Explorer is bad about it) will load pages cached in memory. To avoid this, or if you think there might be an error, try holding down the CTRL key and hit Refresh. This will cause whatever browser you're using to reload and will force the computer to ignore the cached page. (This also works if you think you've suddenly been signed out of Media Miner). Just a little trick … works wonders … (This trick also works if you're posting on Media Miner and cannot see your reviews for your own story …_ )

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Wait … He wasn't a jerk to her …

* * *

_

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	30. Inking Izayois

**_Chapter 30_**

**_Inking Izayois

* * *

_**

Gin hitched her book bag over her shoulder and grinned as Nezumi and Sierra waved her over to the table at the small bistro. "Good afternoon!" she greeted as she dropped her bag beside the chair and sat down. "It's been awhile since we've done this! I'm so glad we could get together!"

Sierra sighed and wrinkled her nose as she handed Gin a menu. "Yeah, well, I've little doubt that I wouldn't have gotten out today had the keeper not been locked into a meeting." She rolled her eyes but laughed. "He's so weird when I'm pregnant. You'd think that he'd realize that they're not so bad after the first one."

Nezumi snorted. "Yeah, there's definitely a reason we're not having one anytime soon."

"Are you and Ryomaru ever going to have children?" Sierra asked.

Nezumi blushed. "We haven't talked about it."

"Really?"

"Nope."

"Well, I had an ultrasound yesterday," Sierra remarked casually.

"Oh?" Gin breathed, dropping the menu in lieu of Sierra's statement. "And?"

Sierra giggled. "And," she began, patting her belly proudly, "Toga seems to prefer girls."

"Oh, kami," Nezumi groaned. "Another girl?"

Sierra nodded. "Yep, another girl. Toga tried to act like he was disappointed that we weren't having his son yet, but, well, you know Toga."

Gin rolled her eyes. "That's ridiculous! What does it matter, girl or boy? It's silly! Toga adores his little girls."

Sierra shrugged and sipped her water. "Of course he does. His father, on the other hand . . . he seems to think that it's a matter of life and death, that we have a son quickly."

Gin grimaced. "I suppose it'd be different. I mean, Toga is responsible for making sure that the heritage of the tai-youkai will be continued." She frowned. "How does that work, anyway? Would that make your son the tai-hanyou?"

Sierra laughed. "I have no idea. Toga tried to explain it to me before, but it didn't really make sense."

Conversation stopped long enough for the girls to place their orders. Gin sat back and giggled. "How many more times are you going to try to have a son, then?"

Sierra's smile faded, and she slowly shook her head. "Honestly? I was kind of hoping that we'd be done for awhile. I'm happy with the children we've got, and this one . . . and I like Toga a lot more when he's not trying to make me rest."

Nezumi crunched a piece of ice. "I don't know . . . I think boys are the way to go. I don't think I'd know what to do with a girl."

"Oh, you'd be fine!" Sierra insisted. "Besides, boys are more rambunctious, from what I've been told."

"I want a houseful of pups!" Gin remarked. "Lots of them . . . seven or eight . . . maybe more later."

"Seven or eight?" Nezumi echoed, unable to hide the sheer incredulity on her face. "You've got to be kidding . . ."

"It wouldn't be that bad!" she insisted. "Then again, I think I'd be perfectly happy, at home with the pups, and I know you two probably wouldn't be."

Nezumi made a face. "Ryo would be. I don't think he wants babies so much as he wants playmates, though."

Gin shook her head, felt her ears flatten as she stifled a sigh. "Is it weird, do you think? That I wouldn't mind staying home?"

"No, not weird," Sierra commented. "I have days when I think I'd like that more; the quiet life with just the girls and Toga . . . but I like my job, too . . ."

"If that's what you'd want, then it's not weird, at all," Nezumi agreed. "That's probably the main reason we haven't really thought about having them yet. Ryo might say he'd be better about not trying to tell me what I can and can't do, but I can't see him letting me work while I was pregnant, either."

"Maybe he'd be okay with it," Gin said though her tone lacked any real conviction.

Nezumi laughed. "See? You don't even think that it's possible, but thanks for trying to reassure me."

Sierra sighed as she rubbed her belly. "Four more months," she said. "That isn't really as long as it sounds, is it?"

Gin giggled and patted Sierra's hand as Nezumi winced and slowly shook her head in commiseration.

"Oh, well, enough about me . . . Tell me, Gin! How are your art classes coming along?" Sierra demanded, waving off the girls' concern.

"They're great!" Gin assured her. "I love them! You know, Cain knows so much about art and history . . . He's really remarkable, and . . ." she trailed off as she glanced from Sierra to Nezumi and back again. Sierra looked like she knew something and was dying to share it. Nezumi looked dubious. "What's going on?" she finally asked.

"You call your teacher by his first name?" Sierra remarked as the waitress set their plates down on the table.

"Oh, uh, well . . . I'm his aide, too, and he lives next door . . ."

"He does?" Nezumi asked, her chopsticks clattering against her plate as she stared at Gin. "Hmm . . ."

"But you still call him by his first name," Sierra went on.

"He said I could," Gin replied weakly. "I mean, I didn't just---"

Sierra giggled and waved Gin's concern away. "I was teasing, Gin, I promise! Anyway, he seems like a rather shy man."

Gin picked at her food, pushing aside the vegetables on her plate to find a hunk of pork. "I guess so, when you first meet him. He's not really, though . . . He has a nice laugh. I like it a lot."

"Your father's still a little irritated at your mother over him," Nezumi pointed out as she lifted her chopsticks again and took a bite of broccoli.

"Ah, well, Toga was a little sore over that, too," Sierra admitted.

"You're telling me," Nezumi agreed. "Ryo's still pouting over it."

Gin fell silent, unsure why it bothered her that the others were discussing Cain in such a favorable light.

'_You don't know why, Gin? Really?_'

She chewed a bite and shook her head, staring at her plate as she tried to ignore the disgruntling feelings. '_No . . . Should I?_'

'_I think you're jealous_.'

'_Jealous?_' Gin echoed, choking on the bite she was trying to swallow. '_I'm not jealous! They're all happily mated, and_---'

'_And that sick, twisted feeling in your stomach is jealousy. Ugly, isn't it?_'

'_I can't be jealous of them!_' she argued. '_That would imply that there was something to be jealous of, and there isn't . . . and even if there were a reason, it's not like I have any real claim on him_ . . .'

'_It has to mean something, doesn't it? He kissed you._'

'_One time_,' Gin countered. '_He kissed me one time, and . . . well, he hasn't really wanted to kiss me since, has he?_'

"Gin? Is something wrong?"

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Gin forced a smile as she met Sierra's questioning gaze. "It's nothing," she muttered as Nezumi set her chopsticks aside.

"Are you sure? We're fairly good listeners."

She sighed, ears drooping as she sat back in her chair and stared at the barely touched plate. "It's just . . ."

"Just what?" Nezumi prodded gently.

Gin shook her head. "Nothing. Forget it."

Nezumi and Sierra exchanged meaningful glances that Gin didn't see since she was frowning at her food. "You know . . . If this is about any certain guys . . . we wouldn't tell anyone, if you didn't want us to," Sierra finally ventured.

"It's not that," Gin said, her frown deepening. "It's . . . I don't know what it is . . ."

"Sounds serious," Nezumi added.

"How . . . how do you get your mates to kiss you?" she blurted, cheeks pinking as she felt both women sit up a little straighter.

"Kissing?" Sierra echoed.

"Oh, I'm so not telling Ryomaru about this," Nezumi mumbled with a wince.

"Who are you trying to get to kiss you?"

"No one!" Gin insisted. "I just meant . . . uh . . ."

"It's him, isn't it? The North American stripes?" Sierra teased.

"Ah, yes . . . good choice," Nezumi agreed.

Gin grimaced. "Be serious! I need help!"

Sierra laughed. "I'm _being_ serious, Gin! He's hot. Definitely kiss-worthy."

"Well, has he kissed you before?" Nezumi asked reasonably.

Gin didn't answer but her blush must have been enough because Nezumi 'ahh'ed' while Sierra giggled almost maniacally.

"Was it nice?" Sierra demanded.

"That nice, huh?" Nezumi mused when Gin's blush darkened.

"You know, if he already kissed you, you're perfectly allowed to instigate the next kiss," Sierra replied.

"Oh, I couldn't!" Gin exclaimed. "I . . . well, I . . . I didn't exactly kiss him back."

"What, exactly, did you do?" Nezumi countered.

Gin wrung her hands. "I . . . I just sort of . . . sat there."

"Hmm, then you definitely need another shot at that," Sierra decided, "and this time, kiss him back, Gin!"

Nezumi sighed. "I don't think I'm that much help on this one. Ryo . . . doesn't mind kissing."

Sierra waved that off and giggled. "Try a romantic movie," she suggested. "I know Toga gets all kissy . . . I think he gets bored with the movie and wants to distract me. Danged if it doesn't work, too . . ."

"Blame it on the movie," Nezumi scoffed. "Romantic movies? Ugh . . ."

"Hey, whatever works," Sierra retorted. "Has he tried to kiss you again?"

"But that's the thing," she forced herself to say. "He hasn't tried to kiss me since. Maybe he just thought I wasn't good at it. Maybe he thought it would be a waste of time."

"I doubt that," Sierra said with a shake of her head. "Think about it: he's youkai, and he didn't strike me as the type to go around kissing girls for the sake of it. No, if he kissed you, it was for a reason."

"What happened to his wife?" Nezumi asked suddenly.

Gin sighed. "I don't know, exactly. I know she died when Belle was an infant, but I don't know much more than that."

Sierra scowled as she turned the water glass in her fingers. The soft clink of the melting ice cubes filled the silence before she spoke. "You know, Gin . . . You should be careful."

"Careful? Of what?" Nezumi asked.

"It's just . . . I remember, you know? When Sesshoumaru came to get me . . . Seeing Toga like that . . ." she shook her head and tried to smile. "We weren't even mated at the time. I know it's been years since Cain's mate died, but still . . . Can it be that simple to forget?"

Gin coughed and shrugged, fought to hide the worry Sierra's words caused her. She'd wondered that, herself. Hearing someone else say the same thing . . . "I don't know," she finally said. "It doesn't really matter. We're just friends, anyway." She nodded slowly, wishing she knew whether she was trying to convince herself or Sierra and Nezumi. "Just . . . good friends."

"Speaking from experience, Gin," Nezumi stated flatly, "you don't kiss someone who is just a friend. I learned that the hard way."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle stood on tiptoe to peer over the shelves in the small convenience store. Spotting Kichiro four aisles over, she suppressed the urge to giggle as the hanyou glowered at the shelf he was supposedly browsing. He was really mad. 

It had started innocently enough. They'd gotten into a discussion on ceremonial colors whereupon Kichiro had admitted that his was violet.

"_Purple's pretty," Belle remarked as she tossed the Styrofoam container that held the scrap remnants of her cheeseburger and french-fry meal_.

"_I didn't say it was purple," he grouched. "I said it was violet. Huge difference, wench. Huge_."

"_Violet . . . purple . . . violet purple . . . just plain purple . . . It's all good_."

"_It's not the same, and it's not 'all good'," he growled. "Violet is violet. Purple is for little girls_."

"_Hmm, are you implying that I'm a little girl again?" Belle demanded, making a point of staring down at her lavender dress_.

"_If the shoe fits, Belle-chan_ . . ."

"_Careful or you'll end up eating that shoe_."

"_Uh huh . . . like I'd be scared of you_."

_Belle narrowed her gaze on the hanyou and slowly shook her head as she stalked off toward the stairs. "All right, Dr. Frankenstein. We'll see about that_."

_Kichiro had his nose buried behind his laptop computer when Belle had come downstairs awhile later. She grabbed her purse off the table and headed for the door. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked without looking up from the computer monitor_.

_Belle rolled her eyes. "I'm going to meet some friends_."

"_Hmm," he drawled. "No, you're not_."

"_I'm not?" she echoed. "And why would I not?_"

"_You're not because I _said_ you're not," he grumbled. "Can't you see I'm busy? I don't have time to go running all over hell's half-acre with you; not tonight, so you might as well turn your ass around right now and march back upstairs, because we're _not_ going_."

"_Funny," Belle bit out as she jerked the door open, "I don't recall asking you whether I could go or not, and I certainly don't recall asking you to come with me_."

"_Do it, and you'll regret it, Belle-chan," he remarked_.

_Belle made a face. "Just who do you think you are? You can't tell me what I can and can't do! I'll have you know, my father_---"

"_Your father left me responsible for you, and as such, that makes me your guardian, and as said guardian, I'm telling you, you're not going!_"

_She winced as he snapped his laptop closed and tossed it aside on the sofa before shooting to his feet and crossing his arms over his chest. Regaining her composure, Belle squared her shoulders and slowly turned to glare at the stubborn hanyou. "I'm not going far; just into town to meet up with my friends. You do know what friends are, right? Those things you don't have because you're, well . . . an _ass."

"_You walk out that door, and I swear on all that is holy, you'll regret it._"

"_The only thing I regret is being suck out here with you_."

"_Yeah, whatever. Close the door and get upstairs. Now_."

_Belle didn't want to comply. The impassive expression on Kichiro's face convinced her not to argue. With what could only be described as a petulant glare, she slammed the door and tossed her purse onto the table before whipping around on her heel and stomping back toward the stairs. She didn't hear Kichiro sit back down till she hit the top of the landing_ . . .

_And it probably would have ended there had Belle not been so bored that she ended up rummaging through a forgotten box in the back of her closet. Filled with odds and ends, Belle giggled softly as she stared at the items that reminded her of things she'd left behind long ago. Slumber parties with her few girl friends back in a time before petty jealously had driven them away, Cain had tolerated the incursions with a father's indulgence for his daughter. He'd taken her to a small drug store, had let her buy little girl makeup kits and nail polishes, pretty hair ribbons and clips made from molded plastic with sparkles. Then he had sat at his desk most of the night with his hand over his nose and mouth as the girls had made each other 'pretty', and he'd never, ever complained_.

_Sitting in the middle of her floor turning a bottle of hideous purple polish over and over in her hand, Belle smiled just a little. She shook the bottle to mix the polish and pushed the box back into the closet. _ 'Violet, huh . . .'

Kichiro might not have been so irritated with her, had she stopped with just the painted claws. It was his own fault, wasn't it? He'd fallen asleep on the sofa---in no-man's land, as far as she was concerned. How she managed to keep from laughing as she painted his claws and then his toes was enough to boggle her mind. That just wasn't enough for her---oh, no---she had to add the finishing touch, and that finishing touch was what likely had Kichiro in the black mood he was in at the moment . . .

One year for Halloween, Belle had wanted to be a vampire, and she'd used about ten packets of Kool-Aid to color her hair for the occasion. It washed out, sure . . . after about a week. Cain hadn't been amused, and it had been a long time before he'd bought the drink mix again.

Curse Kichiro's luck. There was grape Kool-Aid in the cupboard, and Belle had used it, which meant that he also had pretty violet streaks shot through his silver hair---and tipping his ears. Belle had been secretly amazed that he'd stayed asleep long enough for her to paint the tips of his ears with a Q-tip. The result was very nice, she had to admit. '_Maybe I should be a beautician_ . . .'

The topper, however, was the pictures she'd taken with her cell phone that she'd sent to Gin. Kichiro didn't know about those, which was probably for the best since he was really unimpressed when he'd woken up to find that Belle had played beauty salon with him. So angry that he'd barely been able to speak, the only words he uttered as he pointed his pretty purple claw at the door, was, "Car . . . now . . . Get this off me . . ."

And that was the reason they were in the convenience store in the middle of the night. Nail polish remover would get rid of the paint, of course. Belle tried not to think about just how angry he'd be when he figured out that the Kool-Aid color would last a little longer than just one washing . . .

"Hey, Dr. Izayoi? You want the regular nail polish remover, the stuff with aloe for your nails, or the one with keratin to strengthen?" she called out, loudly enough for everyone in the tiny store to overhear her. Kichiro could be thankful that there weren't many people, she figured.

His glowering gaze rose to lock with hers as his cheeks reddened just a little. "Whatever works, little girl," he snarled under his breath.

'_He's going to kill you, you know it?_'

Belle grinned as she grabbed a small bottle of nail polish remover and a bag of cotton balls. '_Yeah, he'll try_.'

'_You _girlified_ him, Belle!_'

'_Yeah, I did . . . isn't he pretty?_'

'_Yes, he is, but that's hardly the point! He's furious---absolutely furious---probably more furious than he's ever been with you_ . . .'

Belle wrinkled her nose and deliberately took her time as she moved toward the cash register. '_It's just a little polish and stuff . . . he's been much nastier to me than I've ever been to him. He's a big boy. He'll get over it_.'

Belle set the items on the counter and grabbed a candy bar. She knew the girl behind the counter. She was one of the girls who used to come to Belle's slumber parties, way back when. "Hi, Cindy," Belle greeted with a cautious smile.

The girl didn't even try to return the pleasantry. "When'd you get back?" she asked instead, staring over Belle's shoulder as she passed the items over the barcode scanner.

"A few days ago," Belle answered. "I'll be going back soon, though."

"Hmm, what a shame," Cindy commented without even trying to hide the cattiness in her tone as her condescending gaze shifted to Belle.

Belle forced a smile and held out a ten dollar bill. Cindy took it, careful not to touch Belle's hand . . . or maybe Belle just imagined that . . .

"You about ready?"

Belle bristled as Kichiro's youki brushed over hers. She hadn't heard him approach, so intent on trying to make small talk that she hadn't realized he was directly behind her.

"Friend of yours?" Cindy asked, her eyes flicking over Belle to Kichiro and back again, dropping Belle's change onto the counter.

"You could say that," Kichiro replied stiffly as Belle stuffed the money into her purse.

Belle took the plastic bag and nodded, not daring to look at Kichiro as she turned to leave.

"I'll see you around," Cindy called as Kichiro shouldered open the glass door.

"I wouldn't count on it," Kichiro growled as Belle swept past him and hurried to the car.

'_He's even angrier_,' Belle's youkai pointed out as Kichiro pulled out of the parking lot onto the street. Hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white and a menacing scowl on his face; he seemed a lot more foreboding in the dancing shadows of the streetlights they passed under on their way through the sleeping town.

'_He's always angry_,' Belle thought with a scowl as she stared out the window at the darkened landscape.

'_Be careful, Belle . . . you've pushed him enough for one night, don't you think?_'

Belle didn't answer. The silence in the car was almost stifling, and Belle had to bite her cheek to keep from saying anything since he wouldn't welcome her commentary at the moment.

"Why'd you let her do that?" Kichiro finally demanded, his tone tight, clipped.

"Let who do what?"

He snorted. "Feh! That girl in the store . . . she was mean as hell to you. Why'd you let her do that?"

Belle shrugged. "Girls are mean," she said simply, "and I'm used to it."

"Don't do that again," he growled as he parked the car in front of the mansion.

"Do what?"

"Don't let anyone talk to you like that. You don't deserve it." Kichiro made a face as he caught sight of his painted claws. "All right, maybe you deserve it, but not from the likes of her."

Belle stopped abruptly, frowning at Kichiro's back as he let himself into the house as she slowly shook her head. '_He doesn't . . . he was angry . . . at Cindy?_' She scuffed her toe in the gravel driveway. '_But . . . why?_'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_I'm forgetting something; I know I am_.' 

Cain wiped his eye with the back of his wrist and stepped away to eye the sculpture he'd been working on. Crossing his arms over his chest with his hands turned out to keep the damp clay off himself; he cocked his head to the side and rubbed his chin against his bare shoulder.

'_I don't think you forgot anything. Sculpture looks good so far_.'

Shaking his head as he heaved a sigh, Cain carefully wrapped a damp towel around the unfinished sculpture before wrapping a sheet of plastic over it. He knew he was forgetting something, and he had a feeling that it didn't have anything at all to do with his work.

He stooped down to rinse his hands in the water bucket he kept close by whenever he was working, washing off most of the clay in there to keep it out of the sink before heading for the bathroom to wash with soap. Grimacing as he stared at his bare chest, he pulled the cloth covered rubber band from his hair, giving up on the idea that he wouldn't need a shower.

Actually he never wore a shirt when he worked, for that reason. In the beginning, long ago, he would forget from time to time, but he'd ruined too many clothes that way---shirts especially---that it was habit now, to take off his shirt before he started working. Bodies were washable. Clay was hell to get out of fabric though.

He turned on the shower and stripped off his pants before adjusting the water temperature and slipping into the tiny stall. Unsure why he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he really had forgotten something, Cain scowled as he made quick work of washing off the flecks of dried clay then shampooing his hair.

By the time he was finished, Cain was positive that he really was forgetting something. The nagging suspicion had grown, and when the muffled knock sounded on his door, Cain barely had time to grab a towel to drape around his hips on his way out of the bathroom.

"Hi, Cain, I---" Gin cut off abruptly when she got a good glimpse at what Cain was---or wasn't---wearing. Golden eyes widening as her face reddened though she didn't look away, the girl pressed her hands to her chest as her breath hissed out in a gust.

"Uh, oh, um . . . Hey," he said, tugging the towel up a little higher on his hips.

Gin opened and closed her mouth a few times without making a sound.

"I'll . . . get dressed," he mumbled, leaving the door open for her to let herself in. Wincing as he stalked into his bedroom to pull on the first pair of pants he laid hands on, Cain grabbed a button-down shirt and sighed, rubbing his face as he headed back for the living room again.

Gin seemed to have pulled herself together by the time he returned. Sitting on the sofa with a hint of a blush still staining her cheeks, she glanced at him cautiously. "I'm sorry," she blurted, cheeks pinking a bit more. "I didn't realize . . . um . . . so . . . You want to see what I did today?"

Cain nodded without really paying attention as he tugged his shirt on. "Sure."

Gin stood up and shot him an impish grin before turning around and pushing down the edge of her skirt just enough to reveal a tiny fairy tattoo just under her waistline.

"You---what---why---is---_no-o-o-o_," he drawled as he stared, dry mouthed, at the tattoo.

Gin held the elastic edge for a few more moments then let go and sat back down. "It's one of the new ones---semi-permanent. It'll stay put for a couple of months, they said."

Cain shook his head as he tried to wrap his brain around both the tattoo as well as what Gin had just said. "Not . . . permanent?"

Gin made a face. "Are you kidding? Papa would kill me if I got a real tattoo . . . Nezumi, Sierra, and I went to the mall after lunch, and they'd just opened this shop, so we each got one."

Cain relaxed just a little. "What'd they get?"

"Nezumi got a little bone on her ankle, and Sierra got a 'Girl Power' one on her stomach . . . She found out they're having another girl, by the way."

Cain chuckled. "Another girl, huh? Bet Sesshoumaru loves that."

"They're happy with their girls," Gin remarked then suddenly snapped her fingers. "Did the exterminator come by?"

Cain paused as he buttoned the shirt and made a face. '_Damn, that's what I forgot_ . . .'

He'd assured her that he wouldn't mind letting the exterminator into her apartment so she could meet her family for lunch after class. When he'd gotten back to his apartment, though, he'd wanted to work, so instead of thinking about the promise he'd made her, he had put his mind on auto-pilot and had completely spaced the arrival of the exterminator. "Gin, I'm---I---well . . ." He grimaced. "I forgot."

"Oh . . . it's okay," she assured him. "I'll just call and make another appointment."

Cain stuffed his hands into his pockets, feeling like a complete and utter fool. "I'm sorry."

She waved her hand to dismiss his concern as she dug her cell phone out of her bag and flipped it open. "Hmm . . . I have a message from Bellaniece," she commented as she retrieved the call. "Oh, dear," she mumbled, holding the phone in one hand as she fluttered her fingertips over her lips with the other.

"Something wrong?" he asked, sinking down beside Gin and leaning over to peek at the phone. His eyes widened, too, then narrowed as he blinked at the picture on her cell phone. He was reasonably sure that the person sleeping on the sofa was Kichiro Izayoi . . . complete with blackish-purple streaks in his silver hair, violet tipped ears, and very, very purple claws . . . Gin hit a button to cycle to the next picture and choked as a very clear image of her brother's painted toenails encompassed the tiny LCD screen.

"Oh . . . wow . . ." Gin squeaked, dialing a number and hitting the 'send images' button.

"What are you doing?" Cain asked.

Gin cleared her throat. "Nothing . . . just thought that Nezumi would get a kick out of those . . ."

"Ah, boy . . . Gin . . . your brother . . . won't be _mean_ to Bellaniece for all that . . . will he?"

Gin shrugged, stifling a giggle. "I doubt it. I used to dress him and Ryomaru up as girls all the time---mostly when they wanted me to take the blame for stuff they did, though . . ."

For some reason, that didn't really reassure Cain, not in the least . . .

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_Girlified_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	31. Truths and Dares

**_Chapter 31_**

**_Truths and Dares

* * *

_**

Belle slowed her pace as she wandered along the path. The far off rumble of thunder didn't bother her. She rather hoped it would. It would better suit her mood.

She'd had that dream; the one that she couldn't ever remember but that terrified her just the same. Waking up in the middle of the night with her knuckles smashed against her lips almost painfully, she hadn't been able to sleep again. Tossing the covers aside as she dug her diary out from under her mattress, she had spent the rest of the night snuggled in her father's bed, writing in her journal. She wasn't sure why, but she felt safer there. She always had.

When the first rays of light had gathered on the horizon, Belle had slipped back into her room, dressed for the day, and slipped out of the mansion with no one the wiser. Sure, she'd left a note on Kichiro's computer but she hadn't wanted to wake him up. After the fit he'd had over the nail polish remover, she didn't think she wanted to be around when he figured out that the Kool-Aid wouldn't wash out so easily . . .

'_You realize, right? That was pretty infantile and . . . mean . . . and he's probably going to scream at you when he figures out about the Kool-Aid trick_ . . .'

'_Yeah, he would find a reason to yell at me anyway_,' she retorted. '_He's a big boy. He'll get over it_.'

'_Well, you have to admit, it does take away some of his more serious demeanor, and he _does_ need it. He is a surgeon, after all. He'll probably say that you've tarnished his credibility _. . .'

'_He tarnishes his own credibility_,' she argued. '_He didn't really need help in that department_.'

'_But he has been pretty decent to you_.'

'_When?_'

'_He was irritated with Cindy on your behalf_.'

Wrinkling her nose despite the very real stir of discomfort brought on by her thoughts, Belle mustered all the bravado she possessed. '_Oh, that? That hardly counts_.'

'_Why? Because you don't want it to?_'

'_Of course not! He's a jerk, remember?_'

'_Sure, he can be a jerk, just like you can be a real bitch. Your point?_'

Belle looked up at the sky as the first droplets of rain began to fall. '_I'd have to be stupid to let him get to me_,' she assured herself. '_It'd be better to stay as far away from him as I possibly can_.'

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Belle gasped as Kichiro dropped onto the path before her from the treetops. She hadn't sensed his approach, and with the rising storm wind, she certainly hadn't heard him. She retreated a step but stopped herself, angry that he could shock her into fleeing. "I'm walking," she replied, forcing her tone to remain calm, impassive, ignoring the fluttering in her chest.

"It's getting ready to storm," he pointed out, ears flicking almost nervously---and still very, very violet.

"This little bit of rain isn't really going to hurt me," she stated, squaring her shoulders as she stood her ground.

"You don't have a bit of common sense, do you? Come on. We're going back to the mansion."

Belle yanked her hand out of his and glowered up at him. "I will go back," she agreed, "as soon as I finish my walk."

He looked like he wanted to throttle her. He looked like he was itching to grab her and beat some sense into her. Her youkai screamed at her to run. Belle didn't. "You're going back now, little girl, even if I have to carry you."

She narrowed her eyes and glowered at him. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

"If you want me to rake your eyes out, then feel free to try it."

"Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?" he bellowed, tossing his hands up as he turned away and drew a deep breath meant to calm him. "Why does it always have to be a damn war?"

"I don't make anything difficult," she stated quietly. "At least, no more difficult than you do."

"The hell you don't! I woke up, and you were gone, and---" He cut himself off, shaking his head as he whirled around to face her again. Belle gasped as Kichiro shot forward, grabbed her upper arms, and shook her hard. "Don't you get it? You're _my_ responsibility! Mine! You can't just take off! You can't!"

"Let go," she gritted out, restraining the urge to grind her heel into his foot. "Now."

"Damn it, Belle! I don't care how old you think you are, and I don't care if you think you can handle things or not! You're still just a little girl, and you're going to listen to me!"

Blinking streaming rain out of her eyes, Belle fought to contain her soaring temper as Kichiro shook her once more. "Shake me again, and I'll make you regret the day you were born," she informed him as a bolt of lightning and a crash of thunder reverberated through the trees.

"Promise you won't take off again," he growled though his grip loosened. "Swear it."

"Or what? Or you'll kiss me again to get your way?"

That barb struck home. He winced, ears flattening as he had the grace to look ashamed. "That wasn't . . . I didn't . . ."

"Let go of me."

He released her, planting his hands on his hips, jaw ticking as he clenched his teeth together and glowered at the ground. "Let's just . . . go back. We're both soaked."

Belle didn't argue with him. As much as he'd hurt her in the past, she couldn't help feeling guilty about her dig, and even if he did deserve it, she found that she didn't like saying hurtful things to him. It didn't make her feel better or give her back any of her bruised pride. It left her feeling like a monster . . . and a bitch.

Her hair and clothes were plastered to her skin, and she didn't have to look at him to know that he was in the same sorry condition. By the time they reached the mansion and stepped inside, Belle was shivering, water streaming down her body to puddle on the marble floor.

Kichiro didn't say anything as he closed the door behind them and stalked off toward the stairs. Belle watched him go but couldn't seem to make her feet move. He was almost to the top of the staircase when she blurted, "I could start a fire . . . I think we have some marshmallows and cocoa . . . I-if you want."

His expression was inscrutable as he gazed over his shoulder at her. He stared at her for several moments as the silence stretched out, enveloping every corner of the mansion as she shifted from one foot to the other, feet squishing in her sandals as droplets of moisture formed and fell from her hair onto the floor. "Never mind," she mumbled, feeling completely stupid for having thought, even for a moment, that Kichiro might accept her peace offering. "It was a dumb idea."

"I'll start a fire after I get dried off," he replied. "You should change, too."

Belle nodded. "All right."

He stared at her for another minute before he finally turned and finished climbing the stairs.

'_Thought you said you weren't going to let him get to you anymore_,' her youkai pointed out as Belle hurried to get out of her sodden dress.

'_I'm not,_' she argued as she quickened her pace.

'_You like him, don't you? Sure he can be an ass, but you know, maybe he's really not that bad_.'

She made a face as she closed her bedroom door and reached behind her for the zipper. '_Relax . . . it's just marshmallows and cocoa . . . hardly champagne and caviar _. . .'

'_Yeah, but there is something to be said for marshmallows and cocoa_.'

Belle winced as the electricity flickered then died with a particularly loud crack of thunder. The skies were as dark as dusk outside the windows, and the rain was coming down in a solid gray sheet. Wrapping up in a fuzzy lavender bath robe, she tied the belt and scooped up the wet dress before pushing out of her bedroom again to deposit the dress over the shower curtain rod and grab a couple towels. She didn't bother looking in the mirror before she ran out of the bathroom and back down the stairs.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Have you ever been kissed by a male other than your father?" 

Belle pulled the long metal skewer out of the fireplace and held the toasted marshmallow out to Kichiro. "What kind of kiss?"

He wrinkled his nose and waved it away. "Any kind. Now answer the question, wench."

"Any kind? Sure, of course. I've been kissed before."

"What? On the cheek?"

Belle leveled a look at him and shrugged. "You had your turn. It's mine now. Truth or dare, Dr. Izayoi?"

Kichiro thought it over as Belle carefully pulled the marshmallow off the skewer and bit into it, giggling when the gooey melted concoction stretched out, longer and longer before it finally snapped. The stringy end stuck to her chin, and she wiped it away. "Truth," he told her.

"Hmm," she considered as she chewed and swallowed. "Is it true that you used to be a man-whore?"

"Define 'man-whore'," he challenged.

Belle rolled her eyes. "Simple: a man who does what would be considered whore-like if a woman did the same thing. Do you sleep around a lot?"

"I . . . used to," he answered, watching her reaction with avid interest.

She slowly ate the rest of the marshmallow. "I'm surprised. You don't strike me as the kind to do that."

"Really? Why not?"

Belle licked her fingers. "You're too anal."

"I'm what?"

She shrugged. "You are, you know, and you take everything way too seriously."

He snorted and made a face. "Whatever. Truth or dare, Belle."

"Truth."

Kichiro sighed. "Are you ever going to take 'dare'?"

She shot him a condescending look. "Of course not. I don't trust you."

"Ouch."

"You asked."

"Fair enough," he agreed. "What kind of kissing did you do with this guy you kissed?"

"You used your question."

"I did not," he argued.

"You did," she countered. "The, 'are you ever going to take 'dare'?' question."

"Funny, little girl. That wasn't my real question."

Belle shrugged. "Fine, cheater, what was your real question then?"

Kichiro ignored her barb. "What kind of kissing did you do with this guy you kissed?" he repeated.

"Which one?"

"You've kissed more than one guy?"

Belle giggled. "Of course I have."

"How many?"

"You've used your one question," she pointed out. "Truth or dare?"

He looked like he wanted to challenge her. "Truth."

"Do you really think I'm a spoiled brat?"

Kichiro chuckled. "No, I don't."

She seemed surprised. "Really?"

"Really. Truth or dare?"

Belle made a face. "Truth."

"Figures. How many guys have you kissed?"

Biting her lip as she ticked off guys on her fingers without saying their names out loud, Kichiro arched his eyebrows as she finally looked up and smiled. "Five."

"_Five?_" he echoed.

"Yes, five."

"Holy damn, Belle! _Five?_"

"No matter how often you ask, the answer isn't going to change," she remarked sweetly. "Truth or dare."

Kichiro snorted. "Feh! Truth."

Belle adjusted her bathrobe and regarded Kichiro for a moment. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like her question. "How many women have you been with?"

'_Oh, fuck . . . bad question_,' his youkai mumbled.

Kichiro stretched out on his side, propping his head on his hand as he scowled at the rug under them. "I don't know," he grumbled. "A lot."

"How many is a lot?" she demanded.

"I don't know," he growled. "A lot is a lot."

"Ten?" she asked.

He shook his head. "A lot, Belle . . ."

She whipped a marshmallow at him. He caught it with a scowl and chewed the half-stale snack. Belle didn't seem to have noticed the reaction, and for that he was thankful. "Twenty?"

"You asked your question," he grouched, cheeks growing hotter by the second.

"'A lot' is hardly an answer," she shot back. "More than twenty? Thirty?"

Kichiro sighed, ears flattening, and he couldn't make himself meet her suspicious gaze.

"What then? Fifty?"

He slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers, and Belle's mouth dropped open in shock. "Good Lord, you _were_ a man-whore! More than fifty? Are you serious?"

"I'm not exactly proud of this," he pointed out.

"Ugh. If you were human, you'd have to be tested. I'm almost positive that you'd have some communicable disease."

"Whatever, wench. Your turn."

Belle shook her head. "Truth."

"What's the worst thing you've ever done with a guy?" he demanded.

"You mean stuff I wouldn't tell Daddy about?"

"Well, yeah."

A discernable blush filtered into her cheeks. Kichiro tapped his claws against the floor as he waited for her answer. "The worst thing? I've . . . been with . . . a few guys."

Kichiro blinked, sitting up as he leaned in closer to stare Belle in the eyes. "You've been . . .? With a few? What do you mean, 'been with'?"

Belle scowled and sat back. "I mean I've been with a few guys . . . doing the same sort of thing you've done with your 'lot'."

"Oh, kami," he exclaimed. "You've . . .? No . . ."

Belle's blush darkened, and she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Oral sex, Dr. Izayoi. There, I said it. Are you happy now?"

"No!" he growled, cracking his knuckles as he glowered at Belle. "How many is a few?"

"Much less than your 'lot'," she shot back. "Anyway, I've answered your question. Truth or dare?"

"Dare," he grumbled.

She thought it over for a moment as she impaled more marshmallows onto the skewer. "I dare you to see how many marshmallows you can fit into your mouth at one time."

He made a face. "Do you want me to be sick, wench?"

She snorted. "You don't have to eat them. I just want to know how big your mouth is."

"Uh-uh. Truth, then."

"You can't change the rules!" she complained.

Kichiro shrugged. "I can," he countered.

"Then I get two questions," she insisted.

Kichiro shook his head. "Fine. Let's go. Ask them."

"How old were you the first time you were with a girl?"

He could feel his ears flatten against his head and screwed his face up in a marked scowl. "Fourteen," he admitted. "Well, almost."

"Oh, my . . . you're lying!"

"I wouldn't lie about that," he growled.

"Can you name the women you've been with?"

He sighed. "No, Belle, I can't."

She looked irritated at his answer. Kichiro closed his eyes and tried to think of a way to make her understand. "Look, there isn't a good way to answer that. Anything I say will just make me look like more of an ass than I already do."

"How so?"

He flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling, and waved a hand in the air. "If I don't remember their names, then I'm a bastard. If I did, then I'd be a dog for keeping track. Which one do you prefer, Belle? I'm not perfect. I was a stupid pup. It was all fun and games. It wasn't really a big deal."

Belle curled her legs to the side, staring at her hands as she fiddled with the belt of her robe. "I guess you're right."

Kichiro tucked his hands behind his neck and glowered at the ceiling. How could Belle make him feel like a disgusting monster when she was the one demanding answers? "Okay, little girl: truth or dare."

"Truth," she answered quietly.

He made a face. "How many is 'a few'?"

Belle shot him a sidelong glance. "Three . . . and before you ask, yes, I can name them all."

"Three?" He couldn't contain the low growl that slipped out of him. "So do it, then."

Belle shook her head. "No way."

"Why not?"

"Just because I _can_ doesn't mean I _will_."

"Belle---"

"Why are you acting like it's a big deal? You said, yourself, that you've been with more than fifty women, so what are my measly three guys in comparison?"

"For starters," Kichiro grumbled, "you're seventeen---"

"Almost eighteen, if it matters."

"Yeah, it doesn't, and you're a _girl_."

"So it's okay for guys to be whores but a girl can't get some experience without being what? A tramp? A slut?"

Kichiro scowled. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Oh, for the love of---"

"Besides that, my future mate will benefit from what I've learned."

Belle narrowed her gaze and snorted. "If you can remember her name."

"I'll remember her name, Belle. Don't worry about that. Anyway, it's your turn."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Fine . . . truth or dare."

"Dare."

She scowled in concentration as she tried to figure out what she wanted to slam him with. The scowl dissipated, and she smiled a calculated little grin. Kichiro didn't like that look; not at all. He waited for the verdict. "I dare you to let me touch your belly button."

"My . . .? Why?"

She shrugged. "It's an outie."

"A . . . No!"

"Why not?" she countered. "Are you chicken? Can't stand for Belle to touch the belly?"

"Oh, I can stand it, Belle-chan," he shot back. "I just don't see why you'd _want_ to touch it."

"I don't know . . . It's interesting; that's all."

Kichiro rolled his eyes but heaved a sigh. "Fine. Make it fast, wench."

It didn't take any more prompting than that for Belle to reach out and gently flick her index claw against his belly button. Kichiro couldn't control the involuntary jerk of his abdomen muscles. She breathed out a husky chuckle and flicked again, delighted with the reaction of his treacherous body to her ministrations. "All right," he growled after the fifth flick-jerk. "That's enough." Belle scowled but pulled her hand back. "Truth or dare."

She thought it over and bit her lip but finally sighed and shrugged. "Dare."

Kichiro leaned up on his elbows and stared at her. He hadn't honestly expected her to take a dare. She seemed a lot more cautious in the game than she probably should have been. In any case, Kichiro wasn't about to miss his one chance, and he shrugged. "I dare you to kiss me."

Belle's cheeks pinked as her body stiffened. He'd obviously surprised her, but he couldn't tell from her expression what she was thinking. "Think of something else," she said.

"Coward? Chicken? Can't take the heat?"

Belle shook her head. "Why do you want me to do that? Why would I want to kiss you?"

Kichiro was caught off-guard by her softly uttered question. He wasn't sure what he'd expected her to say, but if were completely honest with himself, he hadn't expected her to turn him down flat. "Don't you want to?"

Belle's cautious happiness shattered like a crystal glass on a marble floor. Stumbling to her feet, she hurried toward the door. Kichiro shot up to follow. "Where are you going?"

She shook her head, holding her hands out to warn him off. He stopped. "Why would I want to do that?" she murmured. "The last time you kissed me . . ."

"The last time . . .? Belle---"

"I'm not feeling very well," she said as she backed up a step and shrugged. "Too many marshmallows, I think . . ."

Kichiro started to call after her but stopped as she whirled around and raced up the stairs. '_Damn . . . what did I do . . .?_'

Kichiro's youkai snorted. '_Feh! You do what you always do to her, Kich. You set her up._'

'_How do you figure?_'

'_Don't be stupid! You put her in a situation where you knew she'd fail. You wanted to kiss her, so you did, and when she proved that she didn't mind that, you pushed her away---literally. Think she can trust you after something like that? Come on. You're really not that dense, or are you?_'

He winced at the accuracy of his youkai's assessment. '_I wasn't trying to do anything of the sort_.'

'_Weren't you?_'

He heaved a sigh. He wasn't, not really . . .

'_You realize, too, that_ _charming the pants off her . . . That ain't gonna work this time_ . . .'

He started up the stairs after her, a feeling of dread gnawing on his stomach. His youkai was right, and damned if he could stand that.

Why was it that he just knew---_knew_---that Belle . . . Belle just might be worth the fight?

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_What . . . huh_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	32. The Movie

**_Chapter 32_**

**_The Movie

* * *

_**

Gin handed the DVD she'd picked up after her girls' afternoon to Cain and flopped down on the sofa, grabbing the small throw pillow and hugging it to her chest. "It's a romance," she informed him as he scowled at the title.

"Romance, huh," he echoed as he tilted the box from side to side, reading the title through the cloudy plastic box. "You sure you want to watch this, Gin?"

"Yes," she said. "The back of the box sounded good."

Cain shot her an inscrutable look. "Did it?"

"Uh huh . . . you'll watch it with me, right?"

Cain made a face. "It's not that," he assured her. "Gin . . . this is a rather . . . artsy movie . . ."

She nodded slowly. "Oh, I get it . . . you're one of those guys who can't stand to watch romances, aren't you?"

He wrinkled his nose. "It's not that, really . . . I've heard of this movie, and . . . I just don't think you'll like it. Why don't we take this one back and get a different one?"

"I thought this one sounded good, and I like the actor," she argued.

Cain sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Were any of the following words in the description: torrid, tempestuous, sordid, or voluptuous?"

Gin scrunched up her shoulders, her face contorting in a thoughtful frown. "Yeah . . . all of them, I think . . . why?" True enough, she hadn't really heard of the movie she'd chosen, but it did say it was a romance, and even if it had those words in the description, that didn't mean anything really. Since she normally picked out comedies or Disney movies---she was a sucker for those---she had just looked for something that she might like. The picture on the box had been the silhouettes of two people locked in an embrace as the rain poured down on them. That wasn't so bad, was it?

"Did you happen to see the rating this movie got?"

"You mean from the critics?"

He shook his head. "No, I mean the MPAA rating . . ."

She shrugged. "No."

"Yeah . . . this is rated 'NC-17' in the States."

"What does that mean?"

Cain made a face. "It means . . . this movie shows . . . stuff . . ."

"Stuff? Like what?"

"Like more graphic sexual situations," Cain explained. "More than what you would normally see in, say, an 'R' rated movie."

She stopped and stared at Cain for a moment, unable to tell if he was being truthful or not. He didn't look like he was joking. She bit her lip and shrugged. "Surely it's not that bad," she mumbled, hoping that Cain would agree.

He narrowed his gaze and heaved a sigh, slowly shaking his head as though he wasn't sure exactly what to say. "All right," he gave in despite the reluctance in his tone, "but I'm warning you, Gin . . . if you insist on watching this, then you've got to watch all of it."

"Of course!" she scoffed. "I mean, even if it shows some stuff, it still sounded interesting."

Cain got up and stepped around the coffee table to slip the DVD into the player. "You're sure?" he asked again before he closed the drawer.

Gin wrinkled her nose and laughed. "I think I'm old enough to watch it, don't you think?"

Cain didn't comment, but he did push the drawer closed.

He sat back down and glanced at Gin again. She curled up on the sofa, leaning her forehead against the high back and folding her knees with her legs tucked under her and the pillow clenched in her arms. Cain rubbed the back of his neck and sighed softly, lifting the remote control to start the movie.

'_This isn't so bad_,' Gin thought. The workaholic lawyer and his dysfunctional marriage were the highlights of the first ten minutes of the movie. She frowned. This was the main reason she didn't like most movies. They were always so . . . sad . . . People tended to get caught up in the trappings of the life they thought they'd wanted, not ever realizing that it wasn't really what they wanted, at all.

'_I won't be like that_,' she told herself as the lawyer---Tom---entered a bar. '_I want to live and be happy . . . and I want the people around me to be happy, too_ . . .'

'_That sounds rather idealistic_.'

'_Maybe, but not impossible_.'

'_Not impossible, if you remember what it is_ you _want_.'

'_What I want, huh_ . . .'

'_Uh oh, doll . . . what are you thinking? I know that tone_ . . .'

'_Hush, now_.' Gin cleared her throat. "Cain?"

"Yes, Gin?"

"Thanks for letting me stay here."

He shrugged. "It's fine. It's my fault. I missed the exterminator."

She wrinkled her nose. "But he can't come again for another week . . . are you sure it's not a problem?"

Cain finally smiled just a little. "You're hardly a problem, Gin. Now watch your movie, will you?"

"I am," she argued, guiltily glancing back at the television as she hoped Cain didn't notice that she hadn't actually been watching. A sex scene. A very _graphic_ sex scene. Gin gasped and pulled the pillow up to cover most of her face, though she was still peeking over the top.

Cain chuckled. "Thought you said you wanted to watch this," he teased.

"I did---I do! I guess I wasn't paying that much attention . . . who's that girl?" Gin admitted then shook her head. "Wow . . . she's really flexible . . ."

He coughed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I don't know . . . he picked her up in that bar . . . and I've seen better flexibility."

"Better than that?" Gin quipped, lowering the pillow as she glanced from the television to Cain and back again. "She's all folded over, like a paperclip."

A vague blush stained his cheeks, and he refused to look at her. "Yeah, well, Isabelle was a dancer."

"Oh . . ."

"Don't ask it," he countered before Gin could get her question out.

She made a face and threw the pillow at him before uncurling herself and standing up to rummage around for something to snack on. "I wasn't going to ask a thing."

"You so were," he shot back.

"Yeah, you think you're so smart," Gin retorted as she retrieved a plastic container of rice crackers and dropped the lid on the counter before shuffling back to the sofa. "What was I going to ask?"

"I _am_ so smart," he informed her, "and you're entirely too predictable. You were going to ask how flexible she was."

Gin held out the crackers. Cain waved them away. "So?"

"So what?"

"So . . . how flexible was she?"

Cain rolled his eyes and didn't answer.

Gin concentrated on the rice crackers and tried not to look at the television too much. Loathe to ask him to stop the movie since it was her idea and since she really had insisted on watching it, she stifled a groan and sighed inwardly.

'_Maybe you should have rented one of those Disney movies_.'

'_Yeah_,' Gin thought as she flattened her ears for a moment. '_Maybe I should have_ . . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_You know, Cain, in the realm of the stupidest ideas you've ever had, I'd have to say, this one ranks right up there_.' 

Cain shifted his gaze to the side as Gin stared, wide-eyed, at the television. She might have seen sex portrayed in 'R' rated movies, but he could tell she'd never, ever seen anything quite like this. Her expression was one of morbid curiosity, and he had to look away before he did something really, really bad . . . like laugh at her.

'_She wanted to watch it,_' he thought. '_I didn't make her_.'

'_No, but you didn't try too hard to stop her, did you? You'd have a fit if Bellaniece were to try to watch this movie, and you know it._'

'_Hell, yes, I would_,' he agreed readily enough. '_That's different, though. Bellaniece is my daughter. Gin . . . isn't _. . .'

"Uh . . ." Gin gasped as she pointed at the television. "She's . . . oh, my . . ."

Cain blinked and focused his attention on the television. The woman was kneeling on the floor in front of the man, and while the camera angle didn't show what she was doing, the implication was loud and clear. "You okay?" he asked.

Gin shook her head as her hand dropped back into her lap. "I had a couple of friends who said they did that with their boyfriends," she commented idly, as though she wasn't aware she was talking out loud. "I . . . I don't get it. It doesn't look like that great a thing . . ."

He chuckled at her dubious tone. "You don't think so?"

Gin shrugged. "Not really . . . it'd just be like sucking your thumb, but . . . not . . ."

Cain nearly choked. "What?"

Suddenly realizing just what she was talking to him about, Gin slouched down and pulled the pillow up over her face a little. "Nothing," she mumbled, cheeks reddening as she stubbornly stared at the television.

'_Oh, my God_ . . .'

'_Mine, too_ . . .' Cain agreed.

'_Did she just say it was like---?_'

'_Yes, she did, and don't repeat it, thanks_.'

"Cain, can I ask you something?"

He nearly groaned, half of him dreading what she was going to ask. The other half way too curious to ignore. "All right."

Gin sat up a little straighter as her cheeks pinked even more.

'_Yeah, I'm not sure we should encourage her questions_ . . .'

'_Shut up, you_.'

Cain's youkai sighed.

"Has that---have you---did you ever---?"

"Have I done that?" he asked.

Gin grimaced but nodded.

He sighed, too. "Well . . . uh . . . sure. Yeah."

"You have?"

Scratching the back of his neck as he willed himself not to blush, Cain took a deep breath. "Gin, I was married, remember?"

Gin thought that over and slowly shook her head as her expression shifted from confusion to something more akin to disbelief. "I don't think my parents do . . . that . . . and _they're_ married."

Cain snorted. "Then I feel sorry for them."

"Cain!"

'_Oh, hell . . . I just said that out loud, didn't I?_'

'_Pfft! Yeah. Yeah, you did_.'

'. . . _Crap_.'

'_Damn, Cain . . . you're on your own here. Try not to make us sound like a big pervert, okay?_'

He sat up straighter and turned toward Gin, bending his knee and holding up his hands as he tried to figure out how best to explain things to her without leaving her with the impression that he was, well . . . a dog. "When people get married . . . certain things, like that---" he said, waving a hand at the television. "It's not bad."

Gin nodded slowly. "Maybe not. It still doesn't seem very . . . gratifying."

"I guess it depends. Some women enjoy that sort of thing."

Gin's already dubious expression darkened even more. "Did you like it when you had it done to you?"

Cain sighed. "Gin---"

She shrugged. "I don't have anyone else I can talk to about this," she told him. "I can't ask my parents, and my brothers? They'd kill me. Most of my friends are away at college or busy . . . I learned all this stuff in school, but . . ." she trailed off, shaking her head slowly as she nibbled a rice cracker. "I always just thought it was kind of . . . weird; like something girls just did because their boyfriends wanted them to."

He relented. She wasn't trying to make him uncomfortable, and he knew it. She was curious, and she was right. He didn't have to know her family any better than he already did to know that she was right. "Guys like it," he admitted slowly, "but no guy worth his salt would expect a girl to do anything that she wasn't comfortable with. Sex isn't supposed to be an ugly thing."

"No," she agreed quietly, deep in contemplation as she stared at her hands. "I guess I just never really thought about it that way. Maybe I never really thought about it at all." She peeked at the television again, ears twitching as she tilted her head to the side. "And that?" she asked, nodding at the screen.

Cain glanced over and shook his head. The couple had reversed positions. "That?" he echoed.

He could feel Gin's gaze without looking at her. "Have you done that?"

"I . . . Yes."

"And you liked that, too?"

Cain sighed. He was doing that a lot with her . . . "Yes."

Gin giggled. "My girlfriends never really talked about that."

"I don't suppose they did," he remarked ruefully.

"It looks . . . kind of . . . nice," Gin ventured.

'_Oh, God_ . . .' he thought with an inward wince. "Uh, yeah . . ."

"This movie isn't so bad," she went on. "Not as bad as some of the DVDs I found once in Ryomaru's room . . ."

"Do I want to know?"

She giggled and tossed a cracker at him. He caught it in his mouth without thinking. '_Why'd I do that?_' he wondered as he crunched the cracker. Gin giggled more.

"His movies were really bad, I think. The women on the cover looked like they were doing _that_," she remarked, waving a hand at the television.

Cain made a face. "Oh . . . uh . . . those movies . . ."

Gin snorted. "The covers were enough for me. He lectured me for an hour about not watching such things, even though _he_ did . . . My brother is a baka!"

"He's got a point," Cain agreed, "those movies aren't very . . . nice."

She shook her head. "Well, of course not! They're nothing but graphic sex filmed by perverts who exploit graphic sex just because they can."

Momentarily shocked by Gin's harsh but accurate assessment, Cain didn't comment right away. She surprised him all the time, didn't she? One minute she was shy and sweet---the Gin he knew best---and the next . . . The next she was spouting something that sounded almost cynical, especially coming from her. "Those movies aren't great examples of what sex should be," he told her.

She smiled. "I didn't really think so." Her gaze slipped to the side, and she stared at the screen with a thoughtful frown. "Why do people do that?"

Cain shook his head. "I don't know . . . Guys . . . think differently. We're simpler that way."

"No, not that," she remarked, waving her hand to stop him from continuing. "The tongue, and the kissing . . . I mean, I get the kissing, but the tongue? Eh . . ."

He chuckled. "It's not so bad."

The look she cast him bespoke her doubt on that score.

Cain's chuckle escalated. "No, it's really not."

"I'll take your word on that."

"Wait . . . Gin . . . The other night, when I . . . when I kissed you? Was that your first kiss?"

Her cheeks blossomed in color, and she cleared her throat, gnawing on her bottom lip as she refused to meet his questioning stare. "Well, it's kind of hard to kiss someone when you're not allowed to go on a date," she grumbled, her tone halfway between apologetic and embarrassed.

Deliberately trying not to think about why he was so pleased that he'd been the first---and thus far only---man to kiss Gin, Cain forced a smile. His stomach was tied in knots; his breathing was stilted, harsh. He swallowed hard and shook his head. "That's why you didn't kiss me back?"

"You surprised me," she insisted. "I wasn't expecting you to . . . I just thought maybe I was bad at it, you know? The kissing . . ."

"It wasn't so terrible."

Her laugh was sad. "I'll be twenty-five years old next week," she admitted. "A few of my friends are married. One has two children, and I just got my first kiss." She twisted a lock of hair around her finger. "I know; it's sad."

"No, it's not sad, at all."

"Hopefully I'll react better, the next time someone tries to kiss me."

Cain snatched her pillow away and slowly shook his head. "Your reaction was fine, Gin, and you're missing the end of your movie."

She grabbed at the pillow. He yanked it away. Gin wrinkled her nose and crawled over to settle herself against Cain's side, snuggling close to him as she sighed happily, her head resting on his shoulder. "You're nicer than the pillow, anyway."

He swallowed hard, tamping down the regret that ate away at him. In another time or in another place, he could see himself falling in love with her. Her sweetness, her innocence . . . her smile . . . If only . . .

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_**MPAA**: Motion Picture Association of America … the good folks that rate movies before American release_ …

_My sister-in-law's boyfriend was killed yesterday morning in an accident. Due to that, I don't know how much, if at all, I'll be able to update this week. God bless, and please hug someone you love in his memory_.

"_May the angels keep you safe. May the light of love lead you home_."

_In our thoughts and memories_.

_Kevin McFatridge_.

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

… _Thumb sucking_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	33. To Make Her Smile

**_Chapter 33_**

**_To Make Her Smile

* * *

_**

'_There's a fairly high chance that she's going to tell you to go straight to hell, you know_ . . .'

Kichiro made a face and snorted. '_You're supposed to be on my side, remember?_'

'_Yeah, I remember . . . I also remember how much of a bastard you were. You made her cry, Kich_.'

He grimaced at that unnecessary reminder.

_Against his better judgment, he'd followed Belle up to her room, bent on making her listen while he tried to tell her that he was sorry for that night . . . for a lot of things . . . Thing was, he had paused outside her door, hand poised to knock, when a strange sort of sound filtered to him. It sounded_ . . .

_It sounded like a muffled sob_.

'That's ridiculous,' _he thought with a scowl, hands draped on his hips as he stared at the door as though he were trying to see through it_. 'Belle doesn't . . . Belle doesn't cry . . .'

_The sound came again; softer this time, and Kichiro slowly reached out, pushed the door open a crack, wincing as the salt of her tears, the smell of her sadness, hit him square in the face. He could tell from the way she lay curled on the bed with her face buried in the fluffy pink pillows that she was trying not to cry. Something about the sadness surrounding her---the loneliness in her aura---it broke something inside him, and it didn't matter that she tried so hard to hide it. The idea that she was crying because he had hurt her_ . . .

_He hadn't been able to go in there. He hadn't been able to face her. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that he hadn't meant any of it. In the end, he hadn't been able to do much more than flatten his ears and leave her alone. Maybe that was best for her. Maybe he . . . Maybe he'd already done too much, said too much, and maybe some wounds ran a little too deep_.

In the last two days, he'd done a lot of thinking, and he'd realized a few things about himself that he hadn't wanted to know. When had he become so cynical, so jaded? He'd been set to dislike Belle from the start, and why? Because she made an appointment . . . because she'd come into his office . . . because she was beautiful . . .? Maybe he was just too used to the women who ventured through the doors. Belle . . . he hadn't expected a girl---a woman---quite like Belle . . .

He'd tried to use the excuse that she was just too young. That hadn't worked. Belle might not be old, but she wasn't naïve. Intelligent, sophisticated, and sometimes playful, she was a contradiction in motion; an inexpressible spirit. Deliberately defying every single one of his beliefs, she reminded him of the simplicity of youth. Things were easier then. She challenged him; tied him in knots only to sort him out again.

'_So that's what it's like_,' he mused as he stared at the girl in question. Sitting under a gnarled old white ash tree in the sprawling back yard, Kichiro leaned his elbow in the doorframe, gazed out at Belle in her pretty yellow dress, the breeze stirring her hair, head bent as she turned the pages of the book in her lap. '_She's the one?_'

His youkai sighed. '_Yeah, baka. I've been telling you that, ain't I?_'

He'd figured out something else, too; something he probably should have known from the start. Using the lines and the charm that had gotten him by with women before wasn't going to work with Belle. For the first time in his life, he wasn't sure how to deal with a female. She was worth it, right? Kichiro smiled vaguely, pushing himself away from the door as he strode out into the sunlight. '_Yeah . . . I think she just might be_ . . .'

"I looked around the house for you," he commented as he stopped behind her.

Belle's back stiffened, and she closed the book before lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders. "I didn't go anywhere," she replied, the hint of trepidation tainting her voice when she spoke. "You can't yell at me."

"I wasn't going to yell at you," he answered, crouching beside her. The breeze caught her hair, blew the scent of wildflowers to him. He closed his eyes and turned his face away. "What are you reading?"

Belle sighed and shrugged, holding the book against her chest so tightly that Kichiro frowned. "Just a book," she told him. "A really, really old book . . ."

"Oh, yeah? Let me see."

She shook her head. "It's mine," she told him, her voice taking on a sharper edge.

"I won't take it from you," he assured her. "Just tell me the title."

"Why do you want to know?"

Kichiro shrugged. "Just want to see what you're reading. Is that bad?"

Belle glanced down at the book and sighed, slowly letting her arms drop away. 'Les Miserables_ by Victor Hugo,_' he read. "Interesting choice . . . why are you reading that?"

"I don't know. It's a good book: a classic."

He turned to face her again, reached out to brush her bangs out of her eyes. Belle looked away before he could touch her. "It's Friday night," he said, tamping down the sigh that tried to escape. "You want to go do something? See your friends or . . . anything at all?"

Belle shot him a wary glance as she smashed the book against her chest once more. "Why?" she asked, gaze clouded with suspicion. "Thought you didn't have time to do anything like that."

He grimaced, cursing Belle's memory and the things he wished he hadn't said. "Do you want to go or not?" he grumbled, injecting just enough boredom into his tone to convince her that he didn't really care what answer she gave.

"Okay," she agreed though the suspicion in her expression didn't wane. "Unless this is some trick to get me to go so you can yell at me later for . . . whatever it is you're trying to trap me into."

"Let's make a deal," he told her. She narrowed her eyes but didn't argue. "Let's call a truce, just for tonight? I swear I'll be nice to you all night . . . and in return . . . you . . . won't say I'm gay."

If she never knew how much it cost him to add that last little bit to the bargain, Kichiro would consider himself lucky. It stung his pride to say it, even if he knew it wasn't true, but Belle was trying not to smile, and for that, he'd say it again if he had to . . .

"Yeah, funny, wench. We got a deal?" he grumbled as heat filtered into his cheeks.

Belle sighed as she considered the options. Even if she didn't trust him, he could tell she really wanted to go. "All right," she agreed slowly, licking her lips as she cautiously nodded. "If you're sure . . ."

Kichiro stood up and held out his hand. Belle ignored it as she pushed herself off the ground. "You've got twenty minutes to get ready," he told her, making a show of checking his watch. "One minute later, and all bets are off."

"Let me get my shoes," she told him, breaking into the first real smile he'd seen on her since the day they'd spent by the fire. "I'll just be a moment."

He grinned as she ran back to the mansion, her hair flying behind her like a ribbons of gold. '_Don't screw it up, Kich_,' his youkai warned. '_You might not get another chance, you know_ . . .'

Kichiro sighed as his smile faded. That was true, wasn't it, and even if it weren't, how many chances did he expect he'd get? '_One chance, Belle . . . you can give me that, right?_'

Belle ran back outside, pausing on the steps to tug on her sandals. She waved at Kichiro, and he drew a deep breath. Unable to shake the feeling that everything was riding on this night, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and slowly strode toward her.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin clicked the cell phone off and snapped it closed with a thoughtful frown, tapping the phone against her chin. 

"Something wrong?" Cain asked, dropping a Jolly Rancher candy into her lap as he popped one into his mouth. In their search for 'manly candy', they'd located an American grocer, and Gin had been introduced to the finer aspects of American foods, like Jolly Ranchers and Hershey bars.

Gin set the phone aside and slowly unwrapped the candy. "That was Mama," she remarked. "She wanted me to ask if you would like to come over Tuesday night for dinner."

"Why Tuesday?" he questioned as he flipped through a magazine, "and why your family?"

"Tuesday is my birthday," she said simply, "I always spend my birthday with my family."

Cain made a face and tossed the magazine onto the table. "I'd rather eat dirt than---"

"You're not going to be mean about my papa, are you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "You don't have to come along, you know. Mama just thought that since Bellaniece is gone that you might be lonely, but it's fine. Not like I only have one birthday a year."

Cain rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine, Gin, fine . . . by the way, you stink at laying the guilt trips."

She grinned. "So will you come with me?"

"Seems a little personal, doesn't it?"

"Well, maybe . . . Just the family."

"Yeah, I think I'll pass."

Gin tried another tactic. "My uncle's going to come, and you know him, right? That wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

He opened his mouth to say 'no'. Gin's ears twitched, and as if she knew what he was going to say, the little triangles flattened against her head and she stared at her hands. Cain sighed, disgusted at himself for the perceived weakness. "All right," he agreed. "I'll go . . . but you owe me."

"What do I owe you?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as her ears perked up.

"I don't know . . . we'll have to see . . ." He grimaced as she crunched the hard candy. "Damn! I've told you, you're not supposed to crunch Jolly Ranchers."

"I can't help it!" she complained as Cain's phone rang. "They're nice and crunchy, and they stick to my teeth!"

"Suck, not bite," he told her again as he fished another candy out of his pocket and tossed it into her lap. "Hello?"

"Daddy? Is everything . . . okay?"

Cain grimaced. "Just fine, Bellaniece. How are you?"

"Good . . . care to tell me what's . . . not . . . being sucked?" she asked casually.

"It's personal preference," Gin argued as she chomped the second candy. "There's no right or wrong way to eat it!"

"Oh, lord," Belle remarked.

"It's not what it sounds like," Cain assured her as he tried to turn away when Gin made a mad grab for his shirt pocket and the candy. "What are you? An octopus hanyou? Hands off, baby girl!"

"Share!" she demanded as she climbed up on the sofa and onto his back, reaching over his shoulder as she tried to sneak her hands into his pocket. "Cain!"

"Maybe I should let you go," Belle commented.

"No, it's fine . . . just got a monkey on my back, is all . . ." Gin succeeded in her candy-seeking mission and dropped onto the sofa with a satisfied giggle. Cain rolled his eyes but grinned. "What are you doing?"

"Dr. Izayoi is taking me to see my friends," Belle answered.

"You behaving?" he asked in a stern tone as Gin crunched candy number three.

"Of course I am!" Belle insisted.

Cain snorted, unwrapping another candy as he caught the phone between his ear and shoulder and sat down. "Hmm . . . good."

"I want that," Gin burbled around her mouthful of candy pieces.

"Manly candy, Gin," he remarked. "Parts and hair."

"Right," she agreed, leaning forward and nipping the candy---and his fingers.

"Ouch! Hey! Leave some flesh, will you?"

Gin just laughed. Belle coughed. "Okay, Daddy, now I _know_ I need to go. Be good, all right?"

"Bellaniece---"

It was too late. She'd hung up the phone. Cain sighed and clicked it off before tossing it on the sofa and digging another candy out of his pocket. "I can't believe you bit me," he grumbled

"I only bit you because you weren't sharing," she countered.

"Need I remind you that you have fangs, baby girl?"

"Need I remind you that you ought not be stingy?"

"Thought you said you had to go shopping today," he pointed out as he popped the candy into his mouth.

She shrugged. "I do. Do you need anything?"

"Nope."

"Okay," she said as she stood up and smoothed her skirt. "May I have a piece of candy before I go?"

Cain snorted. "Why? So you can crunch it?"

Gin made a face. "I won't crunch it!" she replied, wiggling her fingers under Cain's nose.

"It's my candy," he told her. "You have candy at home---'course, the rats have probably rolled around in it . . ."

"Cain!" Gin gasped. "That's not funny!"

He chuckled but gave her the last piece of candy from his pocket and waved a hand toward the door. "You'll crunch that before you even get out of the apartment," he predicted. "Take my keys. I'm going to be working. Who knows if I'll hear you when you get back . . . but don't lose them!"

Gin stuck her tongue out at him as she unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth before grabbing her purse and his keys and heading for the door.

Cain chuckled again as the unmistakable crunch of the candy echoed back to him as she pulled the door closed behind her.

'_You're getting a little too used to having her around, don't you think?_'

Heading back toward the small workroom, Cain frowned and scratched the back of his neck. '_Dunno what you're talking about,_' he argued.

'_Ah, but you do! It's okay, you know. I like her, too_.'

'_She's scared of rats_.'

'_Of course she is, and you're scared of being alone. It's the perfect match_.'

'. . . _I'm not scared_.'

'_There's nothing wrong with what you're doing,_' his youkai assured him. '_Sleeping with her every night . . . spending all your time with her_ . . .'

'_Fine_,' Cain growled as he unwrapped the sculpture and wet his hands in the bucket to work. '_You made your point. I'll . . . I'll send her home later_.'

'_Sure you will_.'

'_You don't think I will?_'

'_Nope, I know you won't. She's Gin. She'll bat those bright eyes of hers at you, and you'll be putty in her hands. It's fine. One thing though . . . that sofa is killing us. Gin can stay, but sleeping on that sofa . . . that just has to go_.'

'_That's ridiculous! Gin's just . . . It doesn't matter. She's just a friend . . . a really, really good friend_.'

'_Just a good friend? Okay . . . I hear you_ . . .'

Cain didn't believe himself, either.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle turned sideways to avoid touching Kichiro as she ducked under his arm and through the doorway of the small dance club---the only one in Bevelle, Maine. The music was loud and rather obnoxious. She glanced at Kichiro a little guiltily. He probably wasn't happy with her choice of hang outs, but this was where her friends were going to be, she was certain, and he did offer . . . 

"Lively place," he said loudly, leaning toward her to be heard over the din.

"It's not as bad as usual," she hollered back.

"What?"

"I said it's not as bad as usual!"

"Oh . . . good!"

Smiling, Belle led the way through the foyer and into the club as Kichiro helped her take off her jacket. A very large guy glanced over just before a wide smile surfaced on his face. With a little giggle, she squealed as the guy hefted her off the floor and twirled her around. "Belle-y Button!" he greeted with a loud kiss on the cheek as he set her back on her feet.

"Hi, Moose!" she laughed.

"When'd you get back?"

"Last week," she answered as a tiny girl slipped up beside Moose. He draped an arm over her shoulders and grinned.

"You look good, Belle! How've you been?" the girl nicknamed 'Squirrel' asked.

"Who's the runt with you?" Moose asked, nodding in the direction behind Belle.

She turned to look and wrinkled her nose, hoping that Kichiro hadn't heard the slight. She couldn't tell from the look on his face whether or not he had. He looked a little bored, and it didn't help that his ears kept flicking nervously. The music was probably bothering him. Belle bit her lip and faced her friends again. "Him? That's Dr. Izayoi. He's going to do Kelly's reconstructive surgery."

"Come on, Belle! Put your sweater down, and dance with us!" Squirrel said as she took Belle's hand and dragged her back toward the tables in the back where the gang normally sat. The club owner had given up separating the three tables since the kids moved them back every night.

She stopped when another hand tugged her back. Glancing back, Belle pulled away from Squirrel and waved the girl on as she turned around to face the hanyou. "Are you okay?"

He didn't look impressed. "Belle-y Button?"

Belle rolled her eyes. "Childhood nickname," she informed him. "Moose is just an old friend."

Kichiro snorted. "I'm not a runt," he pointed out.

Belle pressed her lips together until the urge to giggle passed. "Of course you're not," she agreed since Kichiro did look remarkably small beside the Howitzer known as Moose. "The girl?" he questioned, nodding at Squirrel who was dragging a reluctant Moose onto the dance floor.

Belle grinned. "She's been Moose's girlfriend forever, I think . . . It just seemed right, you know: Moose and Squirrel." She sighed at the blank expression on Kichiro's face. "Moose and Squirrel? Didn't you ever see _The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle_? The cartoon?" Belle shook her head. "I guess you didn't."

"Is the food here . . . edible?" Kichiro asked somewhat dubiously as he gazed around the darkened club.

"It's the best!" she assured him. "Spanish cheese fries and a big, fat Ballpark with everything!"

"Ballpark?" he echoed.

"Hot dogs, doctor! Haven't you ever had a hot dog?"

He shook his head slowly.

Belle's eyes widened. "Oh, my! You really aren't cultured at all, are you?" She held out her hand. "Give me some money."

"Pardon?"

She shook her hand. "Give me some money so I can get you a hot dog."

"I don't think---"

"It's not really dog, you know, now cough up the dough."

He stared at her another moment but complied at last. Belle giggled and hurried away to order some food.

It didn't take long for her to place the order and return with a tacky orange plastic tray laden with hot dogs and four heaping orders of Spanish cheese fries. Kichiro was still standing where she'd left him. He stared at the food then back up to her face, crossed his arms over his chest and snorted. "Not on your life, Belle-chan," he remarked without preamble.

Belle giggled. "It's better than it looks. Trust me!"

"It looks . . . disgusting," he retorted as he followed her to the tables in the back. Belle set the tray down and grabbed a fry. Kichiro didn't even try to hide his revulsion as she popped the cheesy, gooey food into her mouth.

"Try one," she coaxed, holding out a fry. Kichiro retreated. Belle persevered. "It's good, I swear."

He caught her wrist and held her hand away. "I'll take your word for it, thanks."

"How do you know you won't like it if you won't try it?" Belle asked reasonably.

"I'm fairly certain I wouldn't like dying either, but I'd rather not try it to find out for sure."

Belle rolled her eyes and leaned forward to eat the fry. "Suit yourself, but don't complain when you're starving later. I tried to feed you, and you didn't want it."

"Damn, Belle-y Button, do you ever stop eating?"

Belle stood on tip toe to see over Kichiro's shoulder and tugged away from the doctor before running over to greet another of her friends. "David! How are you?" she asked as she hugged him tight. "I thought you were taking summer classes!"

"Not this year. Dad needed extra help on the boat," David shrugged, brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he stepped back and gave Belle the once-over. His friendly smile dissipated as he regarded Kichiro, obviously assessing the doctor for a moment before he glanced back at Belle. "Look at you! You look fantastic . . . then again, you always look fantastic, don't you?"

"Do you think so?" Belle asked with a smile, praying that Kichiro didn't take offense to David's behavior.

"Absolutely. You want to dance?"

Belle's smile widened. "I thought you'd never ask!"

He grasped her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. It felt good to be with her friends; with those who accepted her completely. She caught sight of Kichiro. He hadn't moved at all. The scowl on his face didn't seem threatening, but she couldn't help but wonder about the trace of inexplicable emotion. Remorse? Sorrow?

She shook her head, trying to concentrate on dancing with David. '_I have to be seeing things_,' she reasoned with herself. '_Why would Kichiro feel like that?_'

'_You're with your friends_,' her youkai chided. '_Think about them! You've missed them, remember?_'

'_Yeah_,' she thought as she pushed the questions aside, '_I am_.'

"I've missed you, you know," David remarked lightly, pulling Belle close as a slower song started.

"I've missed you, too," Belle assured him, deliberately ignoring the intimacy behind David's tone. "I've missed everyone! Tokyo's nice, but there's no place like home."

"You should have started at the university," he insisted. "That was the plan, wasn't it?"

"Plans change," she hedged with another bright smile.

"You're enrolling in the fall, right?" he pressed.

Belle shrugged. "We'll see . . ."

David grinned. "Of course you are," he said, brushing off her reluctance. "You'll be the prettiest girl on campus---and you'll be my girl again."

Belle didn't answer as her smile faltered. He seemed content to let the subject drop, and she ignored the pricking of her conscience for not telling David the truth.

'_You don't want to be with him, Belle . . . You just used Tokyo as an excuse to break up with him before._'

'_I didn't think he'd wait for me_,' she argued, her gaze seeking out Kichiro once more. He caught her eye, his scowl diminishing, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Who's the guy you came with tonight?" David asked.

"Oh, him? He's . . . He's the doctor I work for, in Tokyo. He's going to do reconstructive surgery on Kelly."

David digested that for a moment before shrugging it off with an easy-going smile. "Good," he remarked as he pulled Belle a little closer. "For a minute there, I thought maybe there was something going on between you two."

"Between us?" Belle repeated, forcing a nervous laugh. "That's insane! We're not . . . not even friends, really . . ."

"Why are you working?" David questioned. "Your father's the richest man in New England."

"It's a long story," Belle explained. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about that! Tell me about school! I want to know everything!"

David grinned at Belle's exuberant interest. He launched into an animated recap of his first year of college, and all she had to do was smile and nod. If he noticed her preoccupation, he didn't remark on it. Belle stifled a sigh and peeked back at Kichiro again. He was talking to Moose and Squirrel and didn't seem to notice her attention at all . . .

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

:_siiiiigh_:

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	34. Artificial Stripes

**_Chapter 34_**

**_Artificial Stripes

* * *

_**

Kichiro stuffed his hands into his pockets as he tried not to glower at the young man dancing just a little too close to Belle. He hadn't missed David's obvious assessment. He hadn't remarked on it since he had promised Belle he'd be nice. Damned if that suited him, though.

'_You know, Kich, you promised to be nice to Belle . . . you didn't say a damn thing about being nice to her friends_.'

He sighed and shook his head, shuffling his feet as he intercepted Belle's gaze. She seemed nervous, or maybe it was just his own feelings tainting the way he perceived her. He didn't know, but when she tried to smile at him, he nodded in acknowledgement. Belle's smile brightened, and he quickly looked away.

"So you're the doctor Belle-y Button found to do Kelly's surgery?" Moose remarked as he stopped beside Kichiro, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared thoughtfully at the young woman. "Imported you, did she?"

Kichiro shrugged. "Something like that."

"She's a great girl," Moose said, nodding in Belle's direction. "Didn't realize she was going to be here tonight, or I wouldn't have told Dave we'd be here."

"Why's that?" Kichiro asked, trying to sound casual about the entire affair.

Moose shrugged. "Belle-y Button hated to hurt him when she broke it off with him before she went to Tokyo. Nice enough guy, I guess. Just grew apart, maybe. Who knows? In school, those two were voted '_Most Likely to Get Married_'."

"I see . . ."

'_Don't do it, baka!_'

'_Shut up, you!_'

"Oi, Belle-chan! Is that one of the three?"

Belle's mouth dropped open as she stepped away from David, color rising in her cheeks as Kichiro strode forward.

"One of the three?" David asked with a confused shake of his head.

Belle ignored the young man as she hurried to intercept Kichiro since the idea that he was considering neutering the pup must have been apparent on his expression. "You promised, you know!" she hissed as she tried to tug him away from David.

He shot her a mutinous glare but stopped. "Is he?" he demanded again."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Of all the stupid, idiotic, ridiculous---"

"Two seconds, wench."

"What?"

"You heard me. Two seconds to answer or I rip that little bastard apart."

"You can't rip into David!" she hissed.

"Give me one good reason not to, Belle."

"Because," she growled, "I don't want you to!"

"Not good enough, damn it."

She caught his arm as he started to stomp away. "Kichiro! No!"

He cut off mid-rant and stared at her. Why was it that hearing his name tumble from her lips was enough to stop him dead in his tracks? "Kiss me, Belle."

"Huh?"

"You heard me. You want to save that little bastard? Kiss me."

"I will not," she huffed, cheeks pinking as she stepped away from him. "You want me to kiss you so badly? Earn it, Dr. Izayoi."

"Earn it? How the fuck am I supposed to earn it? I've been trying to earn it, and you---"

"Are a jerk! Did you know that? A big, fat, stupid, mean, horrid _jerk!_"

Glaring deliberately at the index finger she poked his chest with to emphasize her words, Kichiro slowly shifted his gaze to meet hers. "You're pushing your luck, little girl."

She swallowed hard but stood her ground. "You promised you'd be nice," she mumbled, blue eyes darkening in the dimly lit club. "You _promised_. I should have known you'd lie. I really . . . I should have known."

Kichiro sighed and caught her arm, his anger draining in the face of her upset. "Belle, wait. Go dance with your little boy. You're right."

She shook her head. "I think this was a bad idea. We can't get along. I don't know why we're even trying."

"No, you're right," he grumbled, "I promised. I don't go back on my word."

Belle crossed her arms over her chest and leveled a no-nonsense look at the hanyou. "You'll be good?"

Kichiro nearly rolled his eyes. He did growl. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be good."

Belle stared at him for another moment but finally nodded. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," he snarled sarcastically as she turned on her heel and walked away---right back to that damn David, no less. Kichiro slowly shook his head.

'_Well, that was a hella stupid promise_.'

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and strode back over to the tables. '_Yeah, it was_.'

'_Making progress though . . . she did say thank you_.'

Kichiro sighed and made a face at the gooey mess that she called food. '_Yeah . . . She did_ . . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin poked the key into the lock, balancing the shopping bag against her hip as she opened the door and let herself into Cain's apartment. 

"Cain?" she called as she bumped the door closed with her rear and dropped her purse and the keys on the side table.

He didn't answer. Gin frowned and sniffed. He was here; she could smell him. She trailed him back to his work room and tapped lightly on the closed door.

"Hmm?" he murmured inside. She pushed the door open and blinked in surprise.

'_Oh, my, he's shirtless_ . . .'

'_Yeah, he is . . . that's so nice_ . . .'

'_Huh?_'

'_Look, doll! There are not many guys who have the kind of presence that one does_ . . .'

'_No_,' Gin supposed there weren't.

Cain knelt down to rinse his hands in the bucket on the floor, peeking over his shoulder as he smiled in greeting. "You get what you were after?"

Gin nodded.

Cain's smile dimmed and he sat back, hands dangling between his knees as he stared thoughtfully at her. "You okay? You look a little shell-shocked."

His crests wrapped completely around his back, and sitting where he was, the early afternoon sunshine filtering through the window caught the highlights in his hair, and Gin could only stare while he progressively looked a little more worried. "Gin?"

'_Say something, doll, you're freaking him out!_'

Gin shook her head slightly, the voice not making sense as she gaped at the youkai hunkered down on the floor.

His smile was gone, replaced by a marked frown, and he pivoted on his feet, cocking his head to the side as his eyebrows furrowed. "Earth to Gin . . ."

"Stuff!" she blurted, holding out the bag with both hands as her face shot up in hot flames. "I---stuff---see?"

He stood up slowly, rubbing his knuckles in the shallow vale in the center of his chest. Gin swallowed hard as he came closer. "What sort of stuff?"

"Stuff?" she echoed with a distracted shake of her head. "Stuff! Yeah . . . stuff! I . . . I bought . . . stuff . . ."

"Can I see your . . . stuff?"

Gin blinked and jerked her head in agreement. "O-okay . . ."

He held out his hand for the bag. Gin let him take it, pressing one hand to her heart as her fingers rose to flutter over her lips.

"Finger paints?" Cain remarked as he dragged the box of primary colors out of the bag, along with the large paint pad that Gin had purchased. "You bought finger paints?"

"Sure," she answered, recovering enough to clear her addled mind. "You use your hands to paint with those."

"I know what they are," he assured her. "I used to buy them for Bellaniece."

"Oh? You can paint with me," she offered.

"Hmm, I said 'used to', Gin . . . when she was, like . . . four."

"Fine, then," she countered, taking the box of paints and the tablet. "I'll do it alone. It's fine. I don't need help. I can finger paint alone. Did I mention I can do it _alone?_"

Cain snorted and shook his head but his smile was back, even if it was overly indulgent. "Okay, you can paint in here, but you have to be quiet. I'm working on this: the _adult_ project."

"You're implying that I'm a little girl again," she reminded him as she sat down on the floor and broke the seal on the cardboard box.

"I'm not doing anything of the sort," he rejoined. "I'm implying that you're a _baby_ girl. There's a huge difference . . ."

"There's not an age limit on finger paints," she pointed out.

"Oh yeah? What does the box say?"

Gin turned the box over and scanned the writing. "Ages four and up," she read, "and I'm 'up'."

"What else does the box say?" he asked, hefting an eyebrow as he wet his hands again and turned back toward his sculpture.

"Says, 'Entertaining children---young and old---for years, our finger paints are carefully crafted to provide hours of fun as well as safety in storage. Hypo-allergenic and non-toxic---'" she paused and grinned at him, "---that means you could eat it, you know."

Cain paused with his finger poised to work on the sculpture. "You _eat_ the paint?"

She rolled her eyes and giggled. "No, but it wouldn't hurt me if I did . . . Oh, good! This brand guarantees that it won't stain fabrics, either."

"Children wouldn't care if it did," Cain remarked.

"But I'm not a child, and I like this blouse," she retorted.

"You can wear one of my old ones, if you want," Cain offered almost absently as he started working on the sculpture again.

"That's okay," Gin assured him. "I'm not that messy."

She opened the tablet and yanked out a sheet of paper then squeezed globs of finger paints out of the tubes, careful to keep the colors separated before she pulled out another sheet for her masterpiece. Gin eyed the paper and made a face before rolling over onto her stomach, taking care to keep her skirt down as she hooked one foot behind the other, idly bending her legs and reached for the paint paper.

She glanced up to find Cain staring at her with a vague sort of frown that she didn't really understand. She grinned at him and pressed a finger to her lips. "Shh . . . quiet, right?"

He finally smiled and shook his head before shifting his gaze back to his work in progress.

Gin frowned in concentration as she dipped the point of her claw in the yellow paint and set to work. The paints had been an impulse buy. Though she hadn't messed with that sort of thing in years, she remembered sitting around for hours with her papa, painting pictures while he watched, sometimes sharpening Tetsusaiga, sometimes looking over school papers, but sometimes---just sometimes---she would ask him nicely, and he'd sigh and shake his head . . . then he'd roll up his sleeves, stretch out on the floor, and he'd dip is fingers in the paint and proceed to ruin her picture. She'd loved it. In her old bedroom at home, she still had a stack of the pictures she'd painted with InuYasha's 'help', and she wondered if her mother had kept any of them . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle slipped out of the club and into the cooler night air with a disgusted sigh. '_I can't believe his nerve!_' she fumed as she lifted her chin stubbornly and started down the street heading north. 

If it weren't bad enough that he sat there for the greatest part of the night glowering at her and David, who had apparently thought he had become grafted to her hip, Kichiro hadn't hardly spoken at all to her friends, noticeably enough for Squirrel to comment on his perceived lack of viable manners to Belle in the bathroom. She was already in a precarious mood because of that, and when she'd come back only to find him swamped in a gaggle of girls---girls who snubbed Belle but were catty enough to be super-friendly when they figured out that Kichiro had accompanied her.

So that was just the icing on the proverbial cake, as far as Belle was concerned. When he looked at her, cast her a subversive glance, then had turned away to chat with the girls . . . Well, that was the final straw. Belle had headed straight for the nearest exit. She was going home.

'_He's such a . . . a _. . . dog!' she growled as she stomped down the sidewalk in front of the closed shops that lined the street. '_Man-whore, huh . . . fits him a little _too_ well_.'

'_Are you really that mad that he was paying attention to those girls?_'

'_Yes_,' she insisted. '_Yes, that's exactly why_.'

'_Is it? Are you sure?_'

'_Why else would I be mad? He's the one who can't keep it in his pants for a few weeks while he's here . . . I don't care what he does when he's home, but he's in my father's house, and_---'

'_And you don't care at all that those girls were only being nice to you because of him?_'

Belle wrinkled her nose as indignant color rose in her cheeks. '_Of course not. Those girls . . . I don't care_ . . .'

She didn't care, not at all---at least, that's what she told herself as she increased her pace. Three blocks from the club, she sighed and stopped, slouching back against the brick building as she looked up at the stars. She didn't want to care. Those girls were petty and shallow. They were the popular ones who always were in the middle of everything, were always having parties and bragging about them at school the next day. Belle had been popular enough, she supposed. Her circle of friends was diverse and eclectic, but they were her friends. Thing was, aside from Squirrel and Kelly, she didn't really have any girl friends. Those girls in the club had been her friends once upon a time. Belle wasn't quite sure why those early bonds had been broken. She hadn't understood at the time, and it still didn't make any sense to her now.

'_Don't you know, Belle? Think about it, will you?_'

Belle sighed again and shook her head. '_I don't care. It doesn't matter_.'

'_If it doesn't matter, then why are we standing here thinking about it?_'

'_They turned their backs on you because of who you are, Belle. You realize that, don't you? Because you're pretty and smart and you don't play their games . . . That's why they don't like you. You threaten them by being yourself, and if that's really how they feel, isn't that their loss?_'

Belle pushed away from the building and started walking again. '_Maybe it is_,' she agreed slowly. '_Then again, they don't really have to be so mean, do they? And Kichiro _. . .'

"Evening, Belle . . . long time, no see."

Belle gasped and whipped around, narrowing her eyes on the three young men stepping out of the alley. She recognized them from school, though they had all dropped out years ago. She hadn't sensed their presence. Wrapped up in her thoughts, she hadn't realized there was anyone around. She wasn't afraid of the boys, but she didn't like the sudden tension in the air that rose as they closed in around her.

"Hi," she said in a brusque tone meant to let them know that she wasn't welcoming their attentions.

"Hi, yourself," one of them said, a boy she thought was named Tim. The others were Bill and Mark, if she remembered correctly.

"Out alone, Belle?" Bill asked as he lifted a lock of her hair to his lips.

"I was just going home," she quipped, willing herself to remain calm. "I'd better be going now."

"Where's your daddy?" Tim questioned as he stepped closer.

"Daddy's still in Japan," Belle answered, watching the third boy out of the corner of her eye.

"You don't really want to go home, do you?" Bill asked, his arm snaking around her waist as Belle moved away from the two.

"I'm afraid I have to," she answered, forcing herself to smile and trying to contain the urge to run. If she ran, they'd chase her, wouldn't they? She swallowed hard, unwilling to test it.

"Keep us company awhile, Belle. We'll take you home . . . I promise."

Mark and Bill laughed at Tim's statement. Belle didn't get the joke---she didn't want to. Biting her lip as she tried to step away from them, Belle shrugged carelessly. "I'd love to stay and hang out awhile, but I've really got to go . . . maybe the next time I see you?"

The men laughed and came closer. "We've got all the time in the world, Belle . . . and you're not going anywhere."

* * *

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* * *

'_For all the work you're doing, you might as well give up and call it a day_.' 

Cain sighed and shook his head, trying to focus on the untouched sculpture in front of him. '_I was thinking; that's all_.'

'_Thinking about a certain little hanyou?_'

Cain made a face. '_No . . . yeah . . . so what if I was?_'

'_You're pathetic, you know it? The tai-youkai can't even resist a little hanyou like her . . . What's she doing, anyway?_'

'_Pfft! The tai-youkai's youkai can't ignore her, either_.'

'_Yeah . . . so what's she doing?_'

Cain shifted his gaze without moving his head. Gin was still lying on her stomach on the floor with her tiny feet kicked in the air and idly swinging back and forth as she scowled in a show of grim determination mixing paint in the corner of the paint paper. She glanced up at him but didn't notice his perusal before looking back at the paper once more.

'_Hmm . . . I give up. No idea what she's trying to do_.'

'_You could ask_.'

'_I could_,' Cain agreed, '_but she's rather cute . . . She's really concentrating on . . . whatever it is she's doing_ . . .'

He watched her for another moment before turning his attention back to the sculpture. Dampening his hands before trying to work, he could hear Gin moving but didn't look up to see what she was doing.

'_You realize what you're doing, right? Just so you don't freak out again, like you did with the wings_.'

Cain snorted. '_Shut up; I'm almost done_.'

'_You're sculpting her, you know_.'

Cain sighed. '_Yeah, I know_.'

Gin giggled suddenly, and Cain looked up to see why, stopping with his hands poised by the sculpture as his eyes widened. Gin was on her knees with her hands in the air and an impish grin on her face, but that wasn't what he was staring at. Oh, no . . . the girl had tied the bottom of her t-shirt to hold it out of the way and had painted very, very teal stripes around her bared stomach flanking her belly button, and he didn't have to think about where the inspiration for that came from. She had mimicked his crests . . . When she saw that he was looking at her, she giggled again. "Ta da!"

"Gin?"

She shook her head. "I'm not Gin; I'm the North American tai-youkai . . . Cain Zelig!"

He choked, trying not to laugh. "Oh . . ."

"I am," she insisted, slowly rising to her feet where she might reach his shoulder . . . if she were lucky . . .

"So . . . _Cain_ . . . you . . . shrunk."

She quirked an eyebrow. "You dare mock me? The great North American tai-youkai, Cain Zelig?"

He coughed. "Nope."

"Good. It's not healthy to do that, you know. I've got . . ." she scowled and shook her head. "How many hunters do I have?"

Cain wrapped the sculpture in a damp cloth. "Three."

She nodded. "I've got three hunters I'll send after you if you mock me: the great and powerful North American tai-youkai."

"Powerful, huh?"

"Yes, powerful . . . Anyway, you don't sound like you're taking me seriously," she teased.

"Oh, no, I'm taking you quite seriously . . . baby girl."

"Pfft!" she scoffed, striding around the room with her hands on her hips. "This great and powerful, magnificent North American tai-youkai will send my three hunters after you if you continue to mock me . . . What are my hunter's names?"

Cain chuckled. "Can't tell you . . . security breech."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, then I'll just call them . . . Moe, Larry, and Curly."

Cain choked. "Make sure you tell them that, the next time you see them, oh great and powerful North American tai-youkai."

"You forgot 'magnificent'," she pointed out.

Cain rolled his eyes. "Sorry . . . oh great and powerful, _magnificent_ North American tai-youkai."

Gin heaved a sigh, stopping in her tracks to lower her chin and pin him with a rather bored stare. "You _are_ mocking me. That's not good. On your knees, little . . . you."

"On my . . . _what?_"

"Yeah, you heard me, mister . . . This great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring North America tai-youkai---Cain Zelig, has spoken."

"Damn, your title just keeps getting longer, Gin---err . . . Cain."

She grinned. "You know, you're supposed to be intimidated by me," she pointed out.

"Uh huh," he remarked, drying his hands off on a rag towel. "Oh, I am. Really. Absolutely."

She made a face. "You're not. I know; I'm not tall enough."

He watched as she glanced around and snapped her fingers before pointing at him in a 'Just You Wait' affectation. She climbed atop the stool he sometimes used and braced her hands on her hips again. "There! Now I'm tall, so bow!"

"Well . . . Your . . ." he coughed again, "_High-_ness . . . when did the great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring North America tai-youkai grow . . . breasts?"

Gin gasped then snapped her mouth closed as her cheeks pinked and she shook her head. "Do you dare make light of me? You'll pay for that, you know! Larry, Moe, and Curly will hunt you down and skewer you to the wall."

"Yeah," Cain drawled, "sorry . . . you're just not very intimidating."

"I can be!"

"Uh huh."

"I can!"

"Su-u-ure, you can be."

Gin cracked her knuckles and grimaced. "_Ra-a-a-a-awr!_"

Cain laughed. "Yeah, also not intimidating."

Gin tapped her foot impatiently but smiled just the same. "Not even a little?"

Cain shook his head.

Gin sighed. "Still, you can't mock the great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, _ferocious_ North America tai-youkai, Cain Zelig."

"You're right. I shouldn't mock . . . myself . . ."

"I'd make a great tai-youkai," she assured him.

"You would," he agreed, crossing his arms over his chest as he wandered toward her.

"I'd be brave and smart and powerful . . . You'd fear me."

"Absolutely."

"So why don't you?"

"Why don't I what?"

"Fear me?"

"Oh, I do . . . completely."

"Hmm, I don't believe you."

He shrugged. "I make it a rule not to fear anyone who has to stand on a chair to be taller than me."

"But you just said you did fear me."

"Yeah, I lied."

Her eyebrows shot up, disappearing under the thick fringe of her bangs. "You lied to me? You dare lie to the great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, ferocious and . . ." she trailed off, face scrunching up in concentration.

"Virile?" Cain suggested.

Gin grinned at him. "Yes, okay . . . The great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, ferocious and virile North America tai-youkai, Cain Zelig." She stopped suddenly, cheeks pinking as she thought about the word he'd added. "_Cain!_ I can't call you---_me_---that!"

"I think it sounds logical," he argued. "Cain Zelig, the great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, ferocious and _virile_ North America tai-youkai."

Her cheeks reddened a little more. "I don't think that's a nice word."

Cain leaned on the stool on either side of her feet, staring up at her as she blushed darker. "It's a great word; a fantastic word . . . a _powerful_ word."

"You're bad," she mumbled with a shake of her head. "Just . . . bad . . ."

"You sure it's bad, Gin? I mean . . . bad can be . . . good . . ."

"C-Cain?" she stuttered, stepping back. She shrieked as she started to fall off the chair.

Cain caught her. "You're a damn clumsy tai-youkai," he ventured.

"W-well, I . . . Put me down."

"You're all-powerful," he mumbled, staring into her eyes. "Make me."

"Uh . . . O-okay . . ." She squirmed.

"Yeah, that's not going to get you put down."

"Please?" she squeaked.

"I'll think about it."

Gin bit her lip, peeking over and glancing at the floor. "Wow . . . you _are_ tall . . ."

"That's not going to get you down, either."

"Wh-what will?"

He chuckled rather nastily. "Beg, baby girl . . . and apologize for trying to impersonate me."

"I was teasing!" she argued.

"Yeah, well, I can carry you around all night. It's your call."

"Okay . . . pretty please?" she asked, batting her eyelashes.

"Nope."

Gin kicked her feet. "Pretty, pretty please?"

"Uh uh."

She made a face. "Pretty, pretty please with . . . with me on top?"

Cain forced his gaze away. '_Oh, damn, she didn't_ . . .'

His youkai groaned. '_Oh, damn, she _did . . .'

"Cain?"

"What?"

"I begged . . . Will you put me down now?"

Cain sighed. "You didn't . . . uh . . . apologize."

She snorted. "You know, I was being nice. I was just trying to make you laugh. You looked a little too serious."

"Yeah, and I'm just making you apologize," he countered.

Gin heaved a heavy sigh. "Fine, fine . . . I'm sorry you don't have a sense of humor, Cain Zelig."

"Who says I don't?" he grumbled.

"You don't! At least if I _were_ the great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, ferocious North America tai-youkai, I'd have a sense of humor."

His lips twitched. "You forgot virile."

She buried her face against his shoulder. "I did not!"

"You're cute when you blush."

She stopped kicking and turned her head to the side, peering up at him through her lashes. "I . . . I am?"

He grinned. "Yeah, Gin, you are."

* * *

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* * *

'_That girl has to be the most irritating wench ever created_ . . .' 

'_Yeah, worry about that later, Kich. Just find her_.'

He'd had about enough for one night. Between watching Belle dance too often and too close to David and the girls who had materialized out of nowhere to fawn all over him, Kichiro wasn't in the best of moods when he suddenly realized that the damn wench had slipped out the doors when he wasn't looking---when she had said that she was going to the ladies' room . . .

'_I swear to kami, the next time she says she's going to the bathroom, I'm following her in, if she wants to play it like that_ . . .'

He started for the rental car then changed his mind. Belle wasn't in it; he'd locked the doors. She was on foot somewhere, and he couldn't track her if he was choked up and smelling the exhaust fumes from the automobile.

She was close; he could feel her presence. Her youki was strong, and something about it . . . A sense of dread crept up his spine. Kichiro frowned and broke into a sprint, following the lure of her as he pushed aside the worry that loomed around the edges.

Three young men were huddled together. Kichiro slowed down as he drew closer. '_Belle . . .?_' he thought as he moved in. She was there, but he couldn't see her . . .

"So why don't you just hang out with us?" one of the guys asked, his tone toying, menacing, and Belle's fear spiked.

"I . . . I need to get going," Belle said in a falsely bright tone. Another man chuckled. "Maybe some other time."

"You don't really want to leave yet, do you, Belle?" the third one questioned.

"That's awfully kind of you, to want me to stay, but I've just . . . I'm really tired, and---"

"And that's not very nice of you. Too snobbish for us commoners since your daddy's started jetting you around the world?"

"You heard her," Kichiro growled, cracking his knuckles as he crossed his arms over his chest, restraining the urge to reach over and grab Belle out from their midst. "I suggest you let her go."

The trio gazed at Kichiro, obviously sizing him up. Taking in his tailored clothes, his immaculate shoes, his tidy hair, the obvious leader of the group laughed as he turned to face Kichiro. "This is between us and her," he pointed out with a tolerant smile.

"Is it, Belle?" Kichiro demanded, careful to keep his skyrocketing irritation from showing.

Belle shook her head, eyes wide, afraid. Kichiro shrugged before slowly returning his gaze to the leader. "Call it a lover's spat."

"She says it isn't."

"What can I say? She's just a little pissed off at me."

Kichiro clucked his tongue and cocked his head to the side. "You're calling her a liar?"

"You calling me one?"

"I suppose I am."

"Your mistake then."

Avoiding the man's fist was as simple as leaning to the left. The second punch was just as easy to dodge, and Kichiro shook his head. "That's pretty pathetic," he goaded. "My sister could do better than you."

The man growled and threw another punch. Kichiro stepped out of his way. The man howled and shook his hand after his fist connected with the brick wall. Kichiro shot forward, grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and whirled around to slam him up against the same wall, ignoring the pained grimace and the echoing thud as the man's head snapped back. "I told you to leave her alone. Be glad you only broke your hand. Mess with her again, and I'll make sure you never attack another girl, ever again . . . In fact," he went on, slamming the man against the wall once more, "I'll make sure you never even think about another girl in that way. Hard to do it when you're missing . . . crucial parts . . . you get my meaning?"

The man nodded. Kichiro shoved him against the wall again for good measure. He slumped to the pavement when Kichiro let go, and when he turned around to glare at the other two, they quickly backed away from Belle.

"Get him out of here," he ordered. Belle swallowed hard as the two skirted around her and Kichiro, grabbing their friend's arms and pulling him to his feet. Sparing worried glances over their shoulders, the three hurried off in the opposite direction. Only after they'd turned the corner at the end of the block did Kichiro dare to look at Belle again. "Just what the fuck did you think you were doing?" he demanded, his tone low, clipped, as tight as the restraint he had on his temper.

Belle bit her bottom lip and glanced around: up, down, side to side . . . anywhere but directly at him. "I . . . I was going home," she replied.

"Didn't look like that to me," he growled.

"I was!" she argued then grimaced. "I meant to . . ."

"Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?" he asked, unable to mask the incredulity in his voice.

"It was fine," she assured him. "Just fine. They wouldn't have hurt me."

"Oh, for the love of---Belle, are you dense? I didn't think you were, but I'm starting to wonder. Are you _completely_ stupid?"

"No, I'm not!" she yelled, voice cracking as her gaze sparked dangerously. "Of course I'm not stupid! Everything was fine; just fine! It would have been fine, even if you hadn't come along!"

The control he had over his temper snapped. Before he could think about what he was doing, Kichiro shot forward, grabbed Belle by the arms, bore her back against the wall in the opening of the alley. She gasped and uttered a strangled cry; a sound that reminded him of Ryomaru's cat. She stared at him with fear-darkened eyes. Kichiro shook his head before she could speak. "Damn it, wench! You see how simple it was for me to pin you, and you think you could handle them? All three of them? You can't even handle me, little girl."

"Let go," she squeaked but didn't fight him.

Kichiro's lips curled up in a humorless grin. "You put yourself in danger. Why?" He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment when she didn't answer. "Why, Belle?"

"I wasn't . . ."

"Why didn't you fight them? You're hanyou. You're tough. Why didn't you?"

Belle shook her head, nostrils flaring, mouth opening without a sound. Kichiro growled, thrusting his knee between her legs to pin her in place, grasping both of her slender wrists in one of his hands and deliberately raking his hand up her side. "You see now, Belle? Do you get it yet? You're safe with me; I won't do that to you, but they were going to---"

"I want to go home," she uttered in a tone akin to a child's whimper, tugging at his wrists, to no avail.

"And I want an answer," he countered.

'_Kich?_'

'_What?_'

'. . . _There's something . . . strange . . . about Belle_ . . .'

'_Strange?_'

His youkai sighed. '_I don't think_ . . .'

'_Don't think what?_'

'. . . _I don't think she's wearing . . . panties_ . . .'

Kichiro's eyes widened then narrowed as he glared at the girl in question. She was biting her lip again, looking past him at the empty street. He couldn't believe what his youkai had said. With a harsh curse, he grasped her hip through the thin cotton fabric. "Holy damn, Belle!" he exclaimed. "You aren't . . . Damn it!"

She winced but didn't answer.

With another vicious round of cursing, he let go of her, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her down the street to the waiting car.

She slipped into the automobile without saying a word. Kichiro wasn't sure what he could say; didn't trust himself to try to speak as he strode around and jerked open the door. He slammed it hard. Belle flinched. "If you're smart, you won't say one damn thing to me until after we get back to the mansion," he growled.

Belle sighed softly, resting her head against the window.

Kichiro sighed, too. He didn't know what to do about her. Remembering the fear that radiated from her . . . recalling the sense of dread that had frightened him . . .

He didn't know what to say to her, and for the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do, either.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_She's not … Noooo _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	35. Dealing with Her

**_Chapter 35_**

**_Dealing with Her_**

* * *

Kichiro didn't trust himself to speak to Belle on the twenty minute drive back to the Zelig mansion. Caught between irritation that she would be so stupid as to think she would be safe to walk home, the fear of what might have happened if he had been a little later, and the mind-boggling realization that the impetuous girl wasn't even wearing panties . . . 

By the time he stopped the car in the circular driveway in front of the mansion, Kichiro was no closer to having control of his soaring temper than he had been when they'd started home.

"Stop," he commanded as she hurried up the stairs onto the porch. Belle did, mid-step, foot poised just above the top rise. She cautiously set her foot down but refused to face him. '_Just as well_,' he figured, scowling at the asphalt as he kicked his toe against it. '_What the hell do I have to do? Beat some sense into her?_'

Slowly, cautiously stepping toward her, hands buried in his pockets to keep him from grabbing and shaking her, Kichiro stopped at the base of the stairs and cleared his throat. "Down here," he growled.

Belle grimaced. "I . . . I'm really tired," she mumbled. "I want to go to bed."

"Yeah, you can," he agreed. She started to retreat again, but stilled when he continued, "_After_ you're done explaining yourself."

"Nothing happened," she whispered, shaking her head as she crossed her arms over her chest and shuffled her feet nervously. "I'm fine."

He sighed. "First, why did you leave the club?"

Belle shrugged. "I didn't . . . I didn't think you'd notice. I just wanted to go home; that's all . . . You looked like you were having fun with your girlfriends . . ."

"My what?"

She scowled at him. "Your _girlfriends_."

"What are you talking about?"

Belle wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "The girls at the club," she bit out. "Kendra and Missy and Jasmine. They were all over you, and you . . . Whatever. Add to your nameless conquests. I don't care."

She whipped around to flee again. Kichiro caught her wrist and held her back. "What do you---how could---Those were _your_ friends, not _mine!_"

"They _weren't_ my friends!" she shot back, jerking her arm away though she stood her ground.

He snorted. "Yeah, well, they said they were."

"Then they lied, because they're not!"

Kichiro rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid! They said they used to come to your slumber parties and stuff!"

"Sure, Dr. Izayoi! The key there being 'used to'. Do you remember Cindy at the convenience store? They were all just like her."

"I didn't know that, damn it, and that doesn't excuse the fact that you deliberately left! You put yourself in danger! What the hell were you thinking?"

She flinched at his gradually increasing volume. "I told you: I wanted to go home!"

"Do you have any idea what they were going to do to you? Do you? Why didn't you fight them?"

"Fight them? With what?"

"Damn it, Belle, with your claws!"

"I mean what I said, you jerk! How am I supposed to fight them?"

"Easy," he snarled. "You know how."

"No," she bit out icily, "I don't."

Kichiro started to scoff at that, but stopped, frown deepening into a suspicious glower. "You . . . don't? You're hanyou! What do you mean, you don't?"

"I don't fight," she pointed out in a tone that assured him that she thought he was being dense on purpose.

His mind slowed as he shook his head and held up a hand to emphasize his words. "You're telling me that your father never taught you how to defend yourself?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"Why the fuck not?"

"I'm perfectly safe here. I grew up here."

"Belle, people are crappy. Haven't you figured that out yet? They're not nice, they're not sweet, and there are some that would hurt you!"

"I don't want to talk about this," she insisted, stomping up the stairs and unlocking the door. Kichiro caught the handle before she could slam it in his face, and he followed her inside.

"You're going to talk about it!" he growled, striding around her to block the stairwell---and her retreat.

"What does it matter?" she yelled. "It didn't matter to you! It didn't matter to you at all when you---"

Kichiro shook his head when Belle cut herself off. "When I what?"

Her cheeks reddened and she stubbornly refused to meet his eyes. "Forget it."

Kichiro heaved a sigh as he fought to retain some measure of control. "When I what?" he repeated.

"I've walked home alone lots of times," she pointed out. " Tokyo is much bigger than Bevelle, and you don't seem to have a problem with me walking home alone there, do you?"

"Pardon?"

Belle snorted. "You've forgotten? You made me walk home alone the night you left me at the restaurant, didn't you? But I suppose that was okay since _you_ were the one who walked out on me."

He shook his head. "I left you money for a taxi."

"You didn't."

"Oh, yes, I did! I left it on the table with the money for dinner."

"And I knew that?"

His retort died on his tongue. He hadn't told her that, had he? No, he hadn't, and she had every right to be angry at him for that, too . . .

'_Hmm, Kich . . . you don't suppose . . . I mean, she had to be wearing panties then, didn't she?_'

'_What? What's that got to do with anything?_'

His youkai sighed. '_Balls, she's reckless_ . . .'

Kichiro sighed, too. "Belle . . ." he began, steadying his tone as he narrowed his gaze on her. "Tell me something?"

"What?"

"Your lack of undergarments . . . was that a one time thing tonight? Please tell me it was . . ."

Belle snorted. "Don't flatter yourself, doctor. I don't wear panties."

'_Oh, damn_ . . .'

"What do you mean, you don't wear panties?"

The heathen girl didn't even have the grace to blush. "I would think that would be a fairly straightforward statement, don't you agree?"

"No . . . no, I don't think I do . . ."

"All right, then, I'll say it in simpler terms: I don't own panties. There. Did you catch that?"

"Kami, Belle! How stupid are you?"

"Oh, please! You act like it's a travesty!"

"It is!"

"It's not!"

"It's---"

"---Panties!"

"Damn it, it's more than that! At least panties provide a little protection!"

"Protection?" she echoed with a terse laugh. "Against what? And you're one to talk, Mr. I-Lost-My-Pants in the tournament!"

He snorted. "That's completely different!"

"How so?"

"Because, wench, I'm a male!"

Belle shook her head and sucked in her cheek as she regarded him speculatively. "Spoken like a true butt munch."

"Listen, little girl---"

"No, _you_ listen! I was fine! As much as you don't want to accept facts, nothing happened to me---nothing at all! I could have handled those boys! I've handled boys like those before. Do me a favor and leave me alone, all right? No one is going to do anything to me. There's no one out to get me or hurt me!"

"You're so sure?" Kichiro countered. "You don't think that they were a threat? Why is that, Belle? Why?"

"For the same reason no one would mess with your sister!"

"Your father has Tetsusaiga and a short fuse?"

Belle rolled her eyes. "Of course not! No one would be stupid enough to mess with me! My father is Cain Zelig, the North American tai-youkai, just like your uncle is the Japanese tai-youkai! No one wouldn't dare touch me!"

Kichiro dragged his hand over his face, his level of exasperation reaching fevered heights. "Oh, yeah? Well, I got news for you, princess. Your daddy isn't here to save you, and even the all-powerful North American tai-youkai wouldn't have gotten there fast enough to save you tonight. Now I'll ask you again: do you know what those guys would have done to you if I hadn't gotten there in time?"

Belle paled as the implications of his words sank in. Hand shaking as she smoothed her dress, she spared him a momentary glance before she quickly looked away. "They . . . they said they'd take me home," she murmured.

He grimaced inwardly. He didn't want to scare her any more than she was already, but he couldn't let her endanger herself anymore, either. At least she was listening, even if it wasn't something she wanted to hear. "Belle . . . they wouldn't have bought you home, and by the time they were finished with you, getting home would have been the last of your worries. Do you understand me?"

She shook her head, as if to refute his claim. Biting her lip, she hugged herself tighter. "No, they said---"

"I know what they said. You couldn't fight me off, could you?"

She swallowed hard. "You're hanyou . . ." she muttered.

"Yeah, I'm hanyou, but there were three of them, and you said, yourself: you can't fight. All they'd have had to do was pin you down---maybe---and push up your skirt, and then there wouldn't have been a damn thing that I could have done to save you. What if even one of those guys had been youkai? What then?"

"They wouldn't . . ."

"Belle, you can't believe that, can you?"

She winced. "My daddy---"

He sighed, unwilling to listen to any more of her assurances when he knew in his heart that she was just grasping for straws. The entire situation sickened him, and he couldn't help but feel just a little sorry for her, too. "Look, just don't do it again, okay? Don't . . . don't take off like that again, all right?"

She peeked up at him finally, eyes bright, shimmering, and he sighed. He wanted her to understand the danger she was in. He hadn't wanted to hurt her. "I . . . I need to go lie down," she told him. He stepped aside and watched as she ran past him up the stairs.

'_That really sucked_.'

Snapping the deadbolt lock on the front door, Kichiro shook his head. '_Yeah, it did . . . I had to tell her, right?_'

'_Sure you did. She was careless and impulsive. Reminds me of your brother and all the hell he raised_.'

'_Uh huh, and look how that turned out_.'

'_Yeah . . . that's true. If you'd have been a little later, it could have been Belle, and that would have been worse_.'

'_Damn . . . I can't fix this, can I_?'

'_You could try_.'

Kichiro started up the stairs. '_How's that?_'

'_She said she needed to lie down. Do you really think she's sleeping?_'

'_I doubt it_.'

'_She was scared, Kich. You know she was. Remember when Gin was younger, and she'd get scared?_'

Kichiro paused on the landing. His bedroom was down the hallway to the right. Belle's was to the left. '_Gin used to try crawling in bed with anyone who would let her_.'

'_Yeah, she did_.'

'_I hardly think_---'

'_Not that, baka! Maybe she just needs you to hold her. Maybe that would be enough_.'

Kichiro considered that for a moment, staring down the hallway at the darkened window on the far end. Belle's expression, the late fear that had swelled around her as he explained to her, just what risks she was taking . . . He shook his head and strode down the empty corridor.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_That wouldn't have happened!_' Belle told herself as she smashed her face into her pillow and squeezed her eyes closed. '_It wouldn't have! Things like that . . . they don't happen in Bevelle . . . maybe in Tokyo, but never in Bevelle_ . . .' 

'_He's right, you know. You were careless, and you were in over your head_.'

Belle sniffled and groaned softly. '_You would take his side. This is stupid . . . They wouldn't have . . . they wouldn't _dare . . .'

'_I'm not taking sides, Belle, and you know Kichiro was right. Your father would have a fit if he knew you'd deliberately left that club alone at night, and you know that, too_.'

' . . . _I don't want to talk to you. Leave me alone_.'

'_Why are you crying? You're fine, right? Kichiro got there in time to stop them. No use crying now, is there?_'

She whimpered into her pillow and clenched her jaw so tightly that it ached.

"Belle?"

She stiffened at the sound of Kichiro's soft tone. "Your room's at the other end of the h-hall," she informed him without unburying her face, grimacing as her voice broke despite her resolve not to let it happen.

He sighed. "Listen . . . I, uh . . . I wasn't trying to upset you. I just . . . I wasn't."

She hiccupped. "Go away."

The soft click of his shoes on the hardwood floor came nearer, and Belle stubbornly fought to blink back her tears. "Don't cry . . ." he said quietly, his voice registering a hint of panic.

Belle winced. "Just g-go away, Dr. Izayoi."

The bed lilted as he sank down beside her, and he cleared his throat. "I wish you were right, you know," he told her. "I wish the world was a perfect place where you'd never have to think of ugly things. It's not, and . . . and when I think about what might have happened if I'd been any later . . ."

"Why?" she rasped, throat aching from the tears she held back. "Why do you care? You don't . . . even _like_ me, so why?"

"I . . . _like_ . . . you," he grumbled. "Why would you think I don't?"

She choked out a hoarse, incredulous laugh. "Maybe because you're n-never nice to m-me. You've never liked m-me."

"Belle . . ."

She sat up, dashing the back of her hand across her eyes as she glowered at the hanyou. "I hate you!" she yelled, scooting away from him as she sniffled.

He winced at the venom in her tone. "What?"

She shook her head. "I _hate_ you!" she blasted him again. "I _never_ cry, you stupid man! I never, ever do, and y-you made me do it!"

He reached out to touch her face. She jerked away from him. He let his hand drop and sighed. "Yeah, I'm an ass, and you should hate me."

She blinked, shoulders slouching as she glared at her hands. "Yes, exactly."

"And I'm a jerk, too."

"Uh huh."

"Don't forget mean."

"There's that."

"And grouchy."

"That, too."

"You, uh . . . you want to hit me?"

Belle's chin snapped up, shaking her head in confusion. "Why w-would I do that?"

He shrugged, not meeting her gaze as he stared at the wall with a concentrated frown. "It'll make you feel better to hit something."

She wrinkled her nose. "I can't hit you," she grumbled.

"Sure, you can . . . probably hit like a girl, though."

"I _am_ a girl."

"You are?"

"Why, you---"

"Your . . . _father_ . . . paint that?" he asked, nodding tersely at the mural on the wall.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah, he did."

"Huh."

"What?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "Pretty big castle," he remarked as he stared at the mural.

She sighed. "It's my castle."

"Yours?"

"Yeah, mine. I'm the fairy princess. That's me, in the turret."

"You look pretty small there."

She rolled her eyes. "What do you expect? I was three when he painted it."

He digested that in silence then glanced at her. "Looks like you're waiting for something."

"Not something," she corrected as she wiggled around to face the mural. "Some_one_."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm . . . my prince: Prince Charming."

"Still waiting for him?"

She shook her head. "No . . . not really."

"So . . . you've found . . . him."

"Sure. He's my daddy."

Kichiro scowled. "Your daddy is your Prince Charming?"

"Of course. Who else would it be?"

A vaguely irritated look passed over the doctor's features. Belle's eyebrows drew together as she watched him. "I don't know," he answered. "I'd think your future mate would be your Prince Charming."

"No, just Daddy."

"Why your father?"

Belle drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. "He always rescued me. I'd climb up to the top of the castle---or a table, whichever was closest---to escape the fire-breathing dragons, and Daddy would come and save me. He _always_ came to save me."

'_Except tonight, he didn't. Tonight_ . . .'

Belle grimaced, pushing the unpleasant reminder aside.

"You know, Belle, one day your daddy won't be there to save you."

"Daddy will _always_ be there," she retorted before she could stop herself.

He seemed surprised by the vehemence in her tone. "You're kind of old for that kind of hero-worship, aren't you?"

She blushed and scowled at the ruffled pink bedspread. "It's not hero-worship; it's true. Nothing's going to happen to him. I won't let it."

"Belle---"

She shook her head furiously, pinning him with a dark glower to cut him off. "He's my daddy. I need him."

Kichiro sighed and hiked his leg up so that he could face her. "Sure, but you know, someday you'll find a mate, and then you'll rely on him to . . . save you from fire-breathing dragons, right?"

Belle snorted. "No, I won't."

"I feel sorry for your future mate, then," he grumbled.

She shook her head again. "No, I mean, I'm not going to find a mate."

"What?"

"I . . . I don't want one, ever."

He was quiet for a moment, probably trying to decide if he thought she was being serious or not. "Why not?" he asked in a much-too-reasonable tone.

"I just don't."

She had a feeling that he knew better. She tamped down a blush and shifted her gaze away. "And you think you can stop it from happening?"

"I told you, he made a promise. Well, so did I. I promised myself I wouldn't let him die. He's not the only one who keeps his word."

Kichiro sighed, rubbing his temple. "I know it seems harsh, but you can't manipulate him into staying alive."

Belle glared belligerently at him. "You're wrong!"

"Am I?"

"You're such a jerk, you know it?"

"I'm realistic, Belle, which is more than I can say for you, at the moment."

"You want realistic?" she countered. "When I was little, I used to think that I would grow up and find a mate, get married, have babies---all of that, but then I figured out that something was weird. See, whenever I told Daddy that I'd have a house full of pups, he'd get this strange look on his face. He'd smile and say that it sounded like a good plan, and for a long time I didn't understand. I do now. I'm not stupid. Dreams have prices, don't they? Well, the price of mine is my daddy, and he's all I've got."

Kichiro didn't respond to her speech right away. Frowning at his fist that he idly punched against the coverlet, he considered what she'd said.

Belle wiped away a tear that had escaped, glaring at the offending moisture before she stubbornly shook her head again. "I don't have a mother or aunts and uncles. I don't have grandparents or siblings. I'm not like you, Dr. Izayoi. My daddy . . . Daddy's the only one I've _ever_ had. Sorry if that sounds selfish."

Kichiro slowly raised his head, golden eyes glowing in the softly lit room. "It's not selfish, Belle. It's not selfish, at all. If it were my old man . . ." He sighed. "I'd feel the same way."

"You . . . you would?"

He smiled wanly and shrugged. "Yeah, I would."

**_

* * *

_**

**_A/N_**:

**_

* * *

_**

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

…_ Damn it _…

**_

* * *

_**

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize. _

_Sue_


	36. Gin’s Birthday

**_Chapter 36_**

**_Gin's Birthday

* * *

_**

"Happy birthday, Gin," Kagome said as she set a strawberry cream cake on the coffee table in front of her daughter.

Gin smiled, scrunching up her shoulders as she waited for Ryomaru to light the stick candles.

"Yeah, just don't smash your paws in it like you did when you were a pup," InuYasha grumbled, pulling Kagome into his lap where he sat on the floor beside the glass doors that opened into InuYasha's Forest.

Gin giggled as a hint of pink washed into her cheeks, and she ducked her head. "I was little then," she pointed out.

"You're _still_ little, baby girl," Ryomaru snorted.

"I think she just wanted all the cake for herself," Toga remarked, arms around Sierra as he bent down to rest his chin on her shoulder.

"I can't help it," Gin countered. "Mama's cakes are the best."

"The best?" Cain asked, catching Gin's gaze. He lifted his eyebrows in silent question. Gin giggled again and ducked her head a little lower.

"I have it on good authority that your cakes are quite good, Gin," Sesshoumaru remarked.

Gin shot her uncle a quick glance but quickly looked away again. He looked innocent enough. Then again, Sesshoumaru could probably play poker with the devil---and win.

"Do you remember the time Gin snuck into Ryomaru and Kichiro's cake?" Kagome asked with a little giggle.

InuYasha snorted despite the tolerant smile on his face. "Like I'd forget that."

"Feh! She ate the whole damn thing," Ryomaru grouched.

"Oh?" Nezumi queried.

"Yep," he began. "She knew Mother had made a cake and snuck into the kitchen, hopped onto the counter, and ate nearly all of it by the time the old man found her.

Kagome laughed. "I only left her alone for a minute."

"I ain't never seen anyone eat so much cake in their lives," InuYasha mused.

Gin blushed. "Like I said, Mama makes good cakes."

"Hmm, wasn't that around the time when we had such trouble getting Gin to leave her clothes on?" Kagome asked, sitting up and turning to stare at her mate.

InuYasha thought that over. "Oh . . . yeah, I think it was. Couldn't get her to leave her clothes on for nothing, especially right after her bath."

"Ma_ma!_" Gin choked out.

Kagome laughed, ignoring her daughter's acute embarrassment as she shook her head and giggled. "She took off once, and you had to track her down."

InuYasha sniggered. "That's right . . ."

"Where did you find her that time?" Kagura asked.

"Standing under Goshinboku at the shrine."

Sierra giggled. "Naked under the God Tree, huh?"

Gin groaned. She didn't dare look at Cain, but she had a feeling that he was trying not to laugh.

"Wouldn't have been so bad, but Gin's grandmother was giving a tour at the time . . ." InuYasha added for good measure. "They seemed a little surprised to see her standing there . . . the look on your mother's face was worth it, though. The old man chased me around with a broom, like I'd sent Gin there like that on purpose. Called it the curse of the hanyou . . ."

"I'll bet," Kagome agreed. "Maybe we should just leash this one," she suggested, patting her still-flat tummy.

"Let that be a lesson to you, Toga . . . Hanyous love to be naked. Good luck with that," Ryomaru commented, jerking his head at Toga's daughters.

Toga snorted. "Feh! This Toga's daughters will remain fully clothed."

"All right," Gin cut in with a shake of her very red-cheeked head. "As much fun as it is to play 'Let's Humiliate the Birthday Girl', it's time to move on."

Kagura chuckled, ignoring Gin's plea to change the subject. "Oh, do you remember the recital, Kagome?"

Kagome groaned then laughed.

"Ah, the recital," Nezumi said slowly, tapping her chin with her index finger. "I remember hearing that one . . . sort of . . ."

InuYasha made a face. "She kept lifting up her dress."

Kagome rolled her eyes as Gin scrunched a little lower in her seat. "She was nervous!" Kagome pointed out.

"And she did it over and over and over and---"

"And she was _four_," Kagome interrupted.

"She was _flashing_ everyone, wench!"

"Well, you made it worse, you know," she remarked, poking an accusing finger in InuYasha's chest.

"The old man marched up to the stage and demanded that Gin put her skirt down," Ryomaru told Nezumi, who at least tried not to laugh. Slapping her hand over her mouth, she turned red and coughed suddenly. Gin stifled a groan.

"She put her skirt down, didn't she?" InuYasha grumbled.

"And she never did go back to her dance lessons," Kagome said with a shake of her head.

"With as much trouble as she had keeping her clothes where they belonged, is there any question why I never let her go on dates?" InuYasha growled.

"Well, she _did_ say she was probably going to die a virgin," Sierra quipped.

Gin groaned louder, her face painfully flushed as she pressed her hands to her cheeks and tried her best to sink through the chair and through the floor, straight into hell, where she was sure she'd be far more comfortable.

"Damn straight," InuYasha agreed.

"That's not . . . too bad . . ." Cain remarked in a far too-casual tone. "Did she do anything else, like suck her thumb?"

Gin sucked in a harsh breath at his seemingly-innocent question.

"No, she never did that," Kagome answered, seeing nothing amiss in his query.

The telephone rang, and Gin answered it, grateful for any distraction that it would provide. "Hello?"

"Happy birthday, Gin."

"Kich!" she exclaimed, "thank you!"

"I figured you'd be there."

Gin pushed the button for the speaker phone. "Yeah . . ."

"Have cake yet?"

"Nope," Ryomaru remarked. "We were telling our favorite Gin stories. You got one?"

"Gin stories?" Kichiro chuckled. "Oi, old man . . . I ever tell you about her and that little friend of hers?"

"Kich . . ." Gin choked out. '_Oh, no . . . he wouldn't_ . . .'

But he would.

"We were all sent to look for Gin because it was past dinner time, and she wasn't home," he explained to Nezumi. "Ryo went into the forest, the old man headed the opposite way, Mother started making phone calls, and I went to Grandma's . . . she always had cookies, so I figured either I'd find Gin or I'd get cookies."

Nezumi rolled her eyes. "Figures."

"Did you find her?" Cain asked. Gin had almost forgotten that he was there---almost.

"This is a silly story, Kich," Gin insisted, unable to keep her face from reddening even more.

Kichiro's chuckle turned almost sinister. "Yeah, I did . . . she was behind the well house with that neighbor pup. Seems they were playing . . ."

"Playing?" Toga asked, since he'd not heard this particular story.

Gin wondered if it would be possible to kill her brother over the phone. "Kich . . ."

"Sure. I think the game's called, 'Show Me Yours, and I'll Show You Mine' . . ."

InuYasha growled and cracked his knuckles. "I remember that pup," he remarked since this was the first he'd heard of it, too. "I remember what he smelled like . . ."

"Papa!" Gin nearly whimpered, plotting a thousand bloody and painful demises for her deranged sibling.

"Aw, she was, what? Five?" Ryomaru said in an effort to appease their father.

"I handled it. He never came around to play with her again, did he?" Kichiro pointed out.

"Kich---purple---painted hair!" Gin choked out.

That ended Kichiro's amusement. Toga coughed. "Ah, yes . . . the paint . . ."

"Now, now," Sierra said, patting her mate's arm. "Kich looks really nice in . . . nail polish."

"Nail . . . what?" InuYasha growled, eyes flashing wide then narrowing as he glanced around the room.

"How did you---I mean, I never---" Kichiro began.

"Bellaniece sent me pictures," Gin piped up, more than happy to pass on the embarrassed ridicule to someone else.

"She . . . what?"

Nezumi laughed. "Nothing to be ashamed of, Kich . . . it was a really nice shade . . . I'd never wear it, myself, but, well . . . it looked . . . great . . . on you."

"Balls, Kich, I thought you said you wasn't gay," Ryomaru grumbled.

"I'm not---damn it. I take it you shared whatever pictures you got your paws on, baby girl?"

Gin giggled, her flush subsiding with the passing of her position on the hot seat. "I only sent them to Nezumi, and Zelig-sensei, of course."

"I showed them to Ryomaru," Nezumi admitted.

"I thought Toga'd get a kick out of them," Ryomaru put in.

Toga chuckled. "You ought to know by now, I tell Sierra everything . . . and I thought that the tai-youkai should be informed of your activities in the States."

"Well, hell . . ." Kichiro grumbled.

"It would have matched your ceremonial clothes nicely," Kagura added.

"This Sesshoumaru knew that a baka like InuYasha should not have spawned . . ."

"What pictures?" InuYasha demanded.

"I want to see them," Kagome chimed in.

"Oh, well, I've still got them on my cell," Shippou added helpfully, leaning forward to dig his cell phone out of his back pocket.

"That's okay, dear," Rin commented, holding up her cell phone. "I have them on mine, too." Seconds later, Rin handed the phone to Coral, who giggled and showed Cassidy before running over to hand the phone to Kagome.

"What a . . . lovely shade . . ." Kagome choked out.

InuYasha's ears and eyes twitched as he stared in horror at the device. "Kami . . . I . . . oh, _balls!_" he growled, snapping the phone closed and tossing it away as if it were the carrier of the Plague.

"InuYasha! That's not a nice expression!" Kagome scolded, cheeks reddening.

"Yeah, well, I can't for the life of me figure out how he came out of mine, wench."

"Damn it," Kichiro cut in. "I hate you all."

The line went dead. Sierra and Nezumi were the first to break into giggles. Ryomaru snorted loudly. Toga sniggered while Shippou laughed outright. Cain looked distinctly like he was choking. Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes while Kagura covered her mouth. Kagome heaved a sigh and closed her eyes. InuYasha continued to glower at the gathering. Coral asked what everyone was laughing at. Cassidy climbed into Sesshoumaru's lap and whispered something in his ear that was lost in the chaotic din. Gin could only be thankful that she was no longer the center of attention.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kagome wandered back into the living room with a cream colored fine linen envelope in her hand. She dropped it into Gin's lap in passing. Gin glanced up at her mother and shook her head slightly. "Here, Mama. You dropped this." 

Kagome laughed as she sank down in the chair beside her daughter. "I didn't."

"But it's addressed to you."

"It is, but we're not using it. I thought maybe you'd like to go."

Gin frowned and turned the envelope over in her hands. "The Tokyo Fine Arts Commission?"

InuYasha rolled his eyes. "Kami, not one of those again," he grumbled. "I don't care what you say, wench, I'm not going."

Kagome wrinkled her nose. "I know," she told him. "That's why I gave the invitation to Gin. That way the family's still represented."

Sesshoumaru nodded. "Good . . . that means I don't have to go, either."

"Arts Commission?" Nezumi asked.

"Don't even think about it, Nez. I'd be dead before you'd catch me there," Ryomaru growled.

"Toga and Sierra were going to go," Kagome explained, "but Sierra didn't feel like standing around for that long, not that I blame her."

"Oh, wow!" Gin exclaimed softly, staring at the embossed invitation. "I can go? Really?"

InuYasha snorted. "Yeah, it ain't all it's cracked up to be. Fucking stupid, if you ask me . . ."

"Who's exhibit?" Cain asked.

"L'amont Pierre," Gin read then gasped, waving the invitation around. "I love his work! Really, Mama? I can have this?"

Kagome laughed. "Sure, you can. It seemed like something you'd enjoy." She cast Cain a speculative look. "Maybe you can talk your teacher into going with you?"

Cain shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I know him. He's a real . . . He's interesting."

InuYasha stomped over and snatched the invitation, scowling as he read it. "Yeah, not for me," he decided, handing it back to his daughter.

Gin squealed happily and hopped to her feet to hug her father. "This is so exciting! I've never been to one of these before, and L'amont-san is so good!"

"Didn't you write him a few letters, Gin?" Kagome asked as Gin sat back down.

"Yeah, but I never mailed them," she admitted. "Do you think I'll be able to talk to him?"

Kagome shrugged. "They normally attend, so maybe you will. You'll have to get a nice dress."

Gin shook her head. "I've got something that'd be perfect, I think . . . I can't believe I'm going to meet _the_ L'amont Pierre!"

"When's the exhibit?" Cain asked, raising his voice to be heard over Gin's squealing.

"Friday night," Kagome told him. "Is something wrong, Zelig-san?"

Cain's irritated expression blanked, and he shook his head. "Nope, not a thing, and just 'Cain' is fine."

"I can think of a few more that would be just peachy," InuYasha grumbled.

"InuYasha!" Kagome gasped.

"What'd I say?" InuYasha demanded.

"I can't wait!" Gin gushed. "A real art opening!"

InuYasha snorted. "I'm warning you, baby girl, those things are pointless and stupid . . . right up your uncle's alley."

Sesshoumaru stood up, rolling his eyes before casting InuYasha a bored stare. "Come, Kagura. I've suffered in the presence of ignorance long enough for one day."

Gin stood up and quickly kissed her mother and father since Sesshoumaru had offered to drive Cain and her back to their apartment building. "Bye, Mama; bye, Papa. Thanks for dinner!"

"Happy birthday, Gin," Kagome called after them.

Gin smiled as she hurried toward the door behind her aunt and uncle. Embarrassment aside, she had to admit that the surprise of the art opening made it all worth while.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_So she likes Pierre, does she _. . .?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	37. Measuring Up

**_Chapter 37_**

**_Measuring Up

* * *

_**

'_You made a few too many sandwiches, didn't you?_'

Belle blinked and stared at the cellophane covered plate of sandwiches and shrugged. '_Maybe_.'

Sitting in the shade of the old white ash tree in the yard behind the mansion, she took out a peanut butter sandwich and carefully pulled the cellophane tight again. It had been years since she'd last sat under this tree with a plate of sandwiches she'd made in hopes of coaxing Cain into coming outside to have a picnic with her. She wasn't sure why she had the desire to do such a thing again.

'_Do you suppose it might have something to do with what you were talking about the other night?_'

She sighed, pulling a bite off her sandwich and popping it into her mouth. '_There's that_ . . .'

She hadn't meant to be so mean to Kichiro. She hadn't meant to say she hated him. She didn't hate him; not really. She was just upset, but maybe he'd known that, too.

Strange, really, and it wasn't something that Belle could put her finger on, but something had changed that night. He was still grouchy and irritable in the morning until he had at least a pot and a half of coffee in his system, but overall, there was a gentler quality to him that she didn't fully understand. The change unsettled her, and that was something else she wasn't about to dwell on.

"Belle-chan . . ."

Belle slowly lifted her gaze at the sound of the tight tone Kichiro used as he strode across the lawn.

"Something wrong, Dr. Izayoi?"

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and glowered at the landscape beyond. "Is there anything you failed to mention to me about the night you . . . painted my nails and . . . ruined my hair?"

Belle swallowed another bite of her sandwich and shrugged. "No . . . can't think of anything else, and the dye will wash out, you know . . . why?"

Kichiro nodded slowly. "So you don't remember doing anything else? Nothing at all? No . . . taking pictures or . . . _anything_ . . .?"

Belle cleared her throat and willed herself not to laugh at the disgruntled hanyou. "Pictures?" she repeated in a bright tone. "Ah, yes . . . now that you mention it, I . . . do . . . remember . . ."

Kichiro sighed and squatted beside her. "Do you? Well, I thought it'd interest you to know that Gin really enjoyed your sharing them with her."

"Did she? I'm glad she liked them."

He nodded. "As did Nezumi, who got them from Gin."

"Oh . . . now see, I didn't know Gin was going to share them."

"And Ryomaru, who saw them on Nezumi's cell."

Belle rubbed the back of her neck nervously, wondering why Kichiro wasn't screaming since he was obviously not seeing the humor in the given situation. "What did he think?"

"He liked them well enough to send them to Toga. Care to take a guess what Toga did with them?"

"I . . . don't think I should."

Kichiro nodded slowly. "You owe me. Big."

Belle bit her bottom lip. "How . . . big?"

"Oh . . . huge, princess. _Huge_."

"We could just . . . call it even?"

"Kami, no."

"Did I mention? I didn't have siblings . . . so I never got to play dress-up with anyone else?"

He shook his head. "Creative, but still no."

"I made sandwiches," she suggested, hoping to distract him since she wasn't at all sure about the strange glint in his eyes.

"Oh, don't do that," he told her.

She blinked and held up the plate. "Do what?"

"Don't give me that look."

"Look?"

"Yeah, that one."

"What look?"

"That, 'I'm The Nicest Girl in the Whole Wide World' look, because you're not getting out of this; not by a long shot."

"Okay . . . I'll . . . let you paint my nails and dye my hair and take pictures for Gin?"

"Hmm," he drawled as he sat down and leaned back on his hands. "That's a tough one . . . well . . . let me think about it . . . Umm . . . No, not even close."

"Well, what are you going to do to me?" she asked, unable to keep the hint of trepidation out of her voice.

He sighed. "I haven't decided yet. I'm torn between the idea of feeding you to a fire breathing dragon and something far more feasible."

"Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like you're more feasible idea?"

He grinned and stretched out in the grass, propping his cheek on his palm as he reached out to twist a lock of her hair around his finger. "Oh, I don't know . . . probably because you won't."

"And why won't I?"

His grin widened. She almost scampered to her feet to run away. "It's simple, Belle. You're going to let me teach you how to defend yourself."

Her mouth dropped open. She snapped it closed as color flooded her cheeks. "That's not a fair trade," she informed him.

"It is. One lesson for every eye that saw each of those pictures. That's twelve people---so twenty-four eyes times two pictures equals forty-eight lessons, princess."

"I choose the dragon," she countered.

He clucked his tongue. "Ah-ah-ah, it doesn't work that way. In the game of retribution, the person you wronged---that'd be me---gets to choose the punishment of the offender---in this case, you."

"You were a jerk to me!" she argued. "You were mean and snide and . . . _mean_ . . ."

"Yeah, and you _girlified_ me! _I_ am the victim here! No complaining! You trespassed against me, and then you committed the ultimate treason by taking pictures of the heinous deed! In days of yore, people who did what you did would have been put in the stocks . . . or worse."

"They were not," she pointed out, lips twitching as she tried really hard not to smile. "They didn't have cell phones in the days of yore."

"Funny, wench . . . real cute."

"That's all well and good, you know, but you're forgetting something, Dr. Izayoi."

"What's that?"

"We're in the United States of America. You can't convict me without violating my right to due process."

"Hate to tell you, princess, but I'm your judge, your jury, and your hangman. Twenty-four out of twenty-four eyes agree: you're guilty. Defense lessons, it is."

"I have the right to an appeal."

Kichiro chuckled then shook his head. "Belle . . . learning how to defend yourself won't make you need your father any less."

Her laughter died, and she sighed. "I know."

"Look, I know why you feel like you do, and I understand it. I also know how I felt when I found you with those bastards. I keep thinking: if I had been just a few minutes later . . . Can you understand that?"

As much as she hated to admit it, she could. Belle pushed the plate of sandwiches closer to Kichiro and shrugged. "I don't have anything to wear."

He eyed the offering dubiously. "What do you mean, you don't have anything to wear? I've seen your closet, princess, and you've got more clothes than the queen of England."

She snorted. "No, I mean, I don't have anything to wear for you to train me in."

The incredulous look on his face might have been humorous any other time. Belle blushed and turned her face away. "You don't have any shorts or sweat pants?"

"Of course not!"

Kichiro rolled his eyes at the absolute disbelief in her voice. "Fine, then. Come on. Let's go get you something to train in."

"Let me finish my sandwich."

Kichiro sighed but didn't argue. "Why'd you make so many?" he asked, waving at the heaping plate.

Belle bobbed her shoulders. "Habit, I guess. I'd make this many when I was little; then I'd beg Daddy to come outside and have a picnic with me, right here. Daddy loves peanut butter."

Kichiro considered that for a moment before slowly reaching for a sandwich. "Peanut butter, huh? What's this other stuff?"

Belle leaned toward him and looked since she'd made two kinds of sandwiches: the normal peanut butter and jelly as well as the kind he was holding in his hand. "That's marshmallow fluff. It's good."

He stared at the sandwich for a moment before hesitantly biting into it. Belle watched him. He seemed surprised, but he slowly chewed and gulped a few times, very aware of her interest. He opened and closed his mouth a few times clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth like he was having trouble swallowing.

Belle frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he mumbled, his voice slightly distorted. "It's stuck to the roof of my mouth."

Belle handed him a bottle of water. "Do you like it?"

Kichiro wrinkled his nose as he drank half the bottle. "Sure, it's fine . . . sticky, but . . . fine." He ate another bite of his sandwich and nodded toward the plate. "How many of these does your father usually eat?"

Belle giggled. "All of them! I told you; he loves peanut butter!"

He nodded slowly, staring at the plate with a wry smile. "I'll just bet he does."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain tossed his keys on the counter as Gin closed the door and turned on the lamp. "This is so great!" she said for the fiftieth time. "I really get to meet _the_ L'amont Pierre! I just can't believe it! He's like . . . one of my idols!" 

"Is he?"

She giggled and plopped on the sofa with her hands tucked under her thighs as she bounced up and down in anticipation. "Absolutely! His paintings are so full of passion and life! I can't _believe_ I get to meet him! I can't remember being this excited . . . oh, _ever!_"

"Really."

She clapped her hands and grinned at him as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he eyed her. "Yes, really! I mean, he's just . . . brilliant, you know? Oh, I can't believe I get to _meet_ him!"

"Who else do you idolize?" he asked casually, crossing his ankles as he stared at the floor.

"Hmm," she considered, flopping back and tapping her chin with her index finger. "There's him, and the great artisans, but they're all dead so I don't suppose I'll ever meet them . . . Oh, and Bowen Lara . . ."

"Just because she sculpted a chocolate swan?"

"That was a _big_ chocolate swan, Cain."

He rolled his eyes. "Anyone else?"

Gin slowly shook her head. "Not really . . ."

"I see . . ."

"Wait . . . no . . . that's it."

"Pfft."

She snapped her fingers and sat up straight. "You, of course!"

Cain snorted. "Yeah, that's like coming in fourth in the Olympics."

"Fourth is good."

He shot her a dark scowl.

"Well, it's just that I've met you. You're my teacher."

His scowl deepened. "Yeah, so I don't count?"

"You're mad at me."

"No, no . . . not at all . . ." He winced. "All right, I'm . . . hurt."

"Why?"

"I ranked fourth behind a bunch of dead guys, Gin . . . That's not good . . . and for the record, Pierre has a tendency to be a real ass, just so you know."

She winced. "Can I do anything so you're not . . . hurt anymore?"

Cain shook his head then sighed. "Yeah, okay . . . there is one thing."

"Anything!" she assured him, scooting forward on the sofa. "Just name it."

He grinned. "You can . . . show me yours."

"_Cain!_" she gasped, cheeks exploding in a flush.

"Oh, come on, Gin . . . I'll . . . I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"I---you---_Cain!_"

He laughed. "What's the matter, baby girl? You outgrow that game?"

"That is so humiliating!" she moaned, burying her face in her hands.

Cain chuckled again. "Okay, okay, I was teasing."

She peeked through her fingers. "Really?" she asked, voice muffled by her hands.

"Sure," he agreed. "But out of curiosity . . . what did you show him?"

"We were _five!_"

He pushed away from the counter and ambled over to kneel in front of Gin. Taking her hands and pulling them away from her face, he laughed softly at the blush staining her cheeks. "I was teasing, Gin . . . I thought it was a cute story. That's all."

"That's me," she agreed a little sadly, "cute little Gin; everyone's baby sister. Story of my life."

"Hey," he said, lifting her chin with his knuckle. "You're not supposed to be sad on your birthday. I'm sorry for embarrassing you."

"I'm not sad," she argued. "I'm used to it. Well, maybe a _little _sad . . ."

"I don't think of you as a baby sister."

"You don't?"

His gaze fell to her lips, and he brushed the pad of his thumb over them. Gin closed her eyes for a moment as a violent shiver ran down her spine. "No, I don't."

"I . . . can't . . . breathe . . ." she whispered.

Cain pushed her hair back with his free hand. She leaned into his touch. "You have to breathe, Gin," he murmured, transfixed by the sight of her: eyes closed, cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly as she struggled to draw breath. "If you don't breathe, I can't kiss you."

She forced her eyes open a crack, her golden eyes veiled behind a haze of longing. "Cain?"

He shook his head, brow furrowing as he stared at her. "I want to paint you."

"You . . . do?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I still owe you a real birthday present. Would you like that?"

She smiled vaguely, nodding as her fingers twined in his ponytail. "Cake fairy?"

"_My_ cake fairy," he agreed, leaning toward her. Her ragged breath condensed on his lips, fanned emotion that he had forgotten so long ago.

"Cain, I . . ."

"Shh," he commanded. "Just let me . . ."

Her lips were soft, sweet, opening under his like the first rays of dawn. Perfect, simple, untainted by the darkness of the world, unaware of things that were best left in shadows, the beauty of her wrapped around him, made him forget the ugly things, too, even if it could only be for a moment.

Her kiss was reluctant, timid, reminding him that she hadn't been kissed like this before. Trembling as he nibbled on her lower lip, she sighed softly, breathing in shallow gasps as she slowly reached out, pressed her hand to his chest. He caught her fingers in his. They curled around his thumb as he pulled her close with his free hand, rubbed her back to soothe her. She held onto him, her heart hammering against her ribcage in a dizzying cadence that he could feel resonating in her aura.

The softest tendrils of her hair brushed over his fingertips; the sweetness of her mouth reminded him of a dream or a fairy tale. Something about her spoke to him, drew on him, pulled him closer than he could have thought possible. She was alive and addictive, strong and soft, vibrant and tempering. Whether she was responding to his kisses on instinct or driven by a base need, she sighed as his lips lingered against hers, her mouth opening and closing like a morning flower.

She whimpered quietly as he skimmed her lips with the tip of his tongue. Her body reacted with a wave of tremors, easing in his arms as deeper, headier, more convoluted scent pulsed around him, radiated from her, and with a harsh sigh, Cain pulled away. "Happy birthday, baby girl."

Gin's giggle was thready and uneven. She swallowed hard and opened her eyes. "I want to spend all my birthdays with you," she murmured.

He tried to smile but couldn't quite manage it. "Yeah," he agreed as his gaze fell to the side, as he tried not to feel guilty for what he'd just done. "I . . . I want that, too."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

… _Wow _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	38. New Moon

**_Chapter 38_**

**_New Moon

* * *

_**

"Hey, I've got an idea," Belle said as she hurried into the living room with a magazine open in her hands. "Let's go rent a movie! I haven't watched any movies in a long, long time."

"Not tonight," Kichiro growled, making a face as he tried to concentrate on his research.

"Oh, come on," she coaxed, plopping down beside him as she closed the magazine and tossed it in the general direction of the coffee table. "Don't be such a---Uh?" she cut herself off and shot to her feet before whipping around to gape at Kichiro. "What---why---Your _hair!_"

Kichiro sighed and rolled his eyes, closing the file and dropping it onto his lap. "Yeah, my hair's black, Belle. I'm human. What of it?"

Belle blinked and slowly shook her head. "You could have warned me," she pointed out reasonably. "I mean, you don't really look like you normally do . . ."

"Feh! Drive it into the dirt, wench," he muttered. "I know; I know . . . black hair, brown eyes . . . _human_. Damn."

"You're really grouchy when you're human," she remarked before she leaned over and grasped the bottom of his shirt and tugged.

"Oi! What do you think you're doing?"

Belle rolled her eyes and giggled. "I want to see if that's all that changed."

"What?"

"Did your belly button suck in?"

He slapped her hand away and snorted again. "No, it didn't . . . if you're going to be a pain in my ass, go get me a soda."

"And who was your slave yesterday?" she countered, arching her eyebrows in silent challenge.

"You're hanyou; you're faster," he muttered, cheeks pinking just slightly, "and you're standing up."

Belle started to say something but seemed to think better of it. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Get it yourself, Dr. Izayoi. Learn how to ask, and it might get you further."

"Yeah, yeah, stop flapping your jaws and just get my drink," he grumbled, opening the file as he tried to ignore her.

Belle narrowed her eyes on the doctor and slowly shook her head before turning on her heel and stomping out of the living room, heading toward the kitchen.

Kichiro made a face. He couldn't help it. It always happened. Being human was something he'd always despised, more for the effects on his body than for any other reason. He felt like he was under water when he was human. The dulling of his senses reminded him of that sensation---probably the reason he'd never liked swimming . . .

Belle sashayed back into the living room with an ice cold can of Coke. He raised his hand to take it. She slapped him away before popping the tab and guzzling the drink. Kichiro's eyebrows shot up as he watched her crush the can in her hands. Her smile was absolutely triumphant, and he opened his mouth to say something.

His commentary was cut off, however, when she unleashed the most unfeminine belch he'd ever heard. If he were hanyou, his ears would have flattened. She'd belched better than most men, for that matter . . .

"Holy damn, princess! What the fuck was that?"

"Don't hate me because I can burp," she informed him. "Hate me because I can burp _louder_ than you."

"Oh, the hell!" he sputtered, pushing his research off his lap and standing up. "We'll just see about that . . ."

She followed him to the kitchen, grabbing a Coke before he could close the refrigerator door. He glared at her as he downed his soda. Belle did the same. The cans hit each other as they sailed toward the trash container. Belle shook her head and sighed. "Ok, doctor, let's hear it."

"Hold on a second," he growled.

Belle rolled her eyes. "Would it help if I patted your back like a baby?"

"Hush, wench. You're distracting me."

She started to say something, but Kichiro's belch interrupted her. Belle wrinkled her nose as the human-for-the-night hanyou crossed his arms over his chest and smiled with perverse pride.

"That's just sad," she countered.

"What do you mean, sad? That was a good---"

Belle's unearthly roar ended his bragging. Kichiro stepped away from the girl as his face contorted in horrified fascination---almost admiration. "That's disgusting," he grumbled, shaking his head as Belle giggled. "You're not inu-hanyou; you're pig, I know it . . ."

"Oh, stop being a spoiled sport! I won, fair and square."

"Not hardly," he grouched. "I swear you cheated."

"How could I have possibly cheated?" she demanded, arching a brow as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the counter. "You really hate to lose, and you hate to lose to a girl even more, don't you?"

"Feh! Damn, I need a drink . . ."

"You just had one," she pointed out reasonably enough.

He shot her a quelling glower. "I wasn't talking about soda, wench. I was talking about whiskey . . . or something like that."

"So go get some," she said as she braced her hands on the counter and pushed herself onto it. "There's a liquor store in Bevelle."

"I'd love to," he told her with a marked snort. "I can't."

Belle shook her head. "Why can't you?"

"Because, princess, I'm human tonight. I don't go out when I'm human."

"Why's that?"

"The old man told us it's better that way."

"Do you always do what your old man says?"

"Do you?"

She grinned. "Sometimes."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't make a habit of ignoring him."

Belle thought that over as she crossed her ankles and kicked her legs. "Daddy's got whiskey in the liquor cabinet . . ."

"Does he really."

She nodded. "Of course he does. Too bad he took his key with him. I'm pretty sure it was the only one . . ."

Kichiro crossed his arms over his chest and couldn't help asking her, "Oh, so your daddy doesn't trust you alone with the booze."

Belle wrinkled her nose. "I have no desire to get drunk and get stupid, Dr. Izayoi." She stared at him for a moment. "Is that how you ended up in over fifty hapless women's beds?"

He snorted. "Not hardly. They were lined up down the street to get into my bed, didn't you know? I'm like . . . the Elvis of oral sex."

Her mouth dropped open as her cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away. "I think that's the most preposterous thing you've ever said," she scoffed.

Kichiro laughed. "Show me to the liquor cabinet, princess."

She blinked. "I told you, it's locked."

"My brother and I made an art from out of breaking rules, Belle-chan. I can jimmy the lock. Just show me where it is."

Despite her reservations about the reason behind his desire to get hammered, Belle hopped down from the countertop and led the way back into the living room and stopped beside the high oak cabinet built into the wall. "Don't break anything," she warned.

Kichiro made a face. "Yeah, whatever. I don't break stuff."

She plopped down on the sofa and grabbed the manila file that Kichiro had been reading while he stalked over to the huge oak desk and rummaged through the drawers for something to help him pick the lock. Staring at a small metal fingernail file, Kichiro held it up to examine it.

Belle frowned at the documents as she leafed through them. One page was covered in his bold handwriting. She read it, eyes widening in disbelief. "You are such a _dog!_" she mumbled incredulously.

"What's that?" he asked absently as he knelt on the floor in front of the liquor cabinet.

"That's what I should be asking," she countered, waving the paper around in the air. "It's not enough to do what you've done, but you have to give _normal_ sex a try, too?"

That got his attention. Back stiffening as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder, Kichiro looked anything but sheepish. He shrugged and resumed picking the lock. "You're such a pervert, Belle-chan, but if you insist, I'll be happy to let you be my research assistant."

"Pfft!" she scoffed, cheeks pinking as she squashed the folder in her hands and dropped it on the coffee table. "Highly scandalous, Dr. Izayoi. I have no desire to be your guinea pig."

"Oh?"

"Of course not," she commented. "What if your plan failed?"

"Then I'd end up with _you_ as my mate," he growled.

Belle narrowed her eyes as she scowled at his back. "Yeah, you're right," she agreed with his disgusted tone. "That would be a fate worse than death."

He shrugged offhandedly. "It meant that I think you're being ridiculous. Everyone who has tested the hypothesis thus far were people who wouldn't have cared had the research failed."

She shook her head. "I see."

"Do you?"

"Why would you research such a thing? Mating is something that shouldn't be taken lightly."

"I didn't say it should be," Kichiro grumbled. "There are such things as accidents, and you're missing the broader picture."

"What broader picture?"

"No one fully understands how youkai and hanyous function on a biological level. If we did, we could figure out some thing; maybe prevent other things."

"Like what?"

"Like why mates follow one another in death."

That gave her pause. Belle bit her bottom lip as she considered his words. "Do you think . . . Do you think that could really be prevented?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Anyway, it's gotta be better than what Ryo did . . ."

"Your brother?"

Kichiro shrugged as he jammed the pointed end of the file into the keyhole and jiggled it back and forth. "Yep. Mated his best friend one night when he'd had too much to drink. He's never been the brightest crayon in the box."

Belle's mouth dropped open, and she knew she was gaping at him. "That's not even funny," she accused.

"Am I laughing?"

"You're serious?"

Kichiro rolled his eyes. "Hell, yes, I'm serious. My brother is . . . well, he's a baka. Took forever before he realized that his youkai chose Nezumi long ago."

"That's … that's . . ." She shook her head as she struggled to find the right words. "That's just . . ."

"Wrong?"

She waved her hand. "No . . ."

"Stupid?"

"Sure, a little . . ."

"Ridiculous?"

"Uh, yeah . . ."

"Unbelievable? Stop me when I'm close . . ."

"I can't believe that your brother did something like that."

He snorted. "Have you met Ryomaru? Because he isn't the best example of 'Things to Do When You're Drunk'."

Belle snorted.

"This is too damn big," Kichiro grumbled, staring in disgust at the metal file. "Come here, wench. Poke around with your claw and see if you can get the latch to give."

Belle blinked and stared at the back of the doctor's head. "I can't, and even if I could, I wouldn't help you with your deviant behavior," she pointed out.

"Can't?" he echoed. "Why can't you?"

Rolling her eyes, Belle held up a hand to show him that she didn't have claws---at least for the time being.

Kichiro dropped the file and slowly stood up. "You're human?"

"Yes, I am," she agreed.

"Why don't you look different?" he demanded as he circled her. "You look the same . . . are you sure you're human?"

She knocked his hand away as he pushed her hair out of the way to inspect her ears. "I think I know when I'm human," she assured him. "I have no idea why I don't look different. Daddy says I look like my mother, except her hair was a little lighter, and so were her eyes."

"Yeah, that's not it," he argued. "You still look the same."

"No claws, no pointed ears . . . no crests . . ."

That got his attention. He cocked his head to the side and eyed her dubiously. "Crests?"

"I have crests, just like Daddy," she explained.

"They're not just like your daddy's. I saw you in that bikini, and I saw no crests."

Belle giggled. "Of course you didn't! Daddy insists that I keep my crests covered at all times, you know. It's one thing to use a concealment to hide them from humans, but since we were over at your uncle's house, I had to make sure they were hidden."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "By that bikini? Where the hell are they?"

"They're not that special, just stripe-shaped crests."

"Yeah, well, it's where they are that is the point."

"Why would you care, where my crests are?"

"Because if they were covered by your bikini, then that means . . ."

"Uh huh."

Her eyebrows shot up as he uttered something of a low moan. "Damn, I _really_ need that drink now . . ."

Belle smiled as Kichiro pivoted to stomp back to the liquor cabinet once more.

'_That was . . . interesting _. . .' she thought.

Interesting, indeed . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Wildflowers." 

Belle peeked over the top of her magazine. "Wildflowers?"

Kichiro nodded. "You smell like wildflowers . . ." His expression darkened as he frowned thoughtfully. "And . . . sex."

"I beg your pardon?"

He shrugged, holding up his half-full glass of whiskey as he swirled it around. "You do, you know. Wildflowers and sex . . . Nice combination."

Shifting his gaze to the side in time to catch the incredulous expression on her pink-tinged face, Kichiro chuckled and sat back in the overstuffed recliner.

"That wasn't a very nice thing to say, was it?"

"What? That you smell like sex, and really great sex at that? Depends on what you consider 'nice'."

She pursed her lips in irritation and scowled at him. "And just how does sex smell?" she demanded.

Kichiro chuckled again, leaning toward her and grabbing her hand to pull her off the sofa and into his lap. The ice in his glass clinked, but he didn't spill as she landed heavily. He wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her there. "It's hard to describe," he admitted. "More of a mix of scents . . . of salty skin and rising humidity . . . something wild and dark . . . Or maybe I should just . . . show you . . ."

Belle gasped and tried to stand up. He tightened his arm enough to keep her there. "I don't think---"

"See, that's the real problem," he admitted. "I think too much. I ask too many questions, like now, for example. I should have just grabbed you and kissed you, instead."

She stopped struggling and stared at him. The wariness in her gaze tore at him, and he forced a smile as he drained the whiskey. "I need a refill."

Belle sighed. "No, you don't. You've had . . . how many glasses now?"

He shrugged. "Wasn't counting."

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

"Do I sound drunk?"

"Slurring? No . . . Mindless drivel? Absolutely."

"Maybe you should have a drink, princess. Does wonders for the inhibitions."

"I don't have inhibitions; I have common sense." She tried to get up again. He held her. "Besides, I don't feel like hearing you growl at me in the morning because I had a drink."

"Who said anything about growling at you?" he countered, burying his nose in her hair as he set his glass aside. "Kami, you smell good."

"Let me go," she whispered, her body relaxing as he nuzzled against her.

"Wan' play doctor, Belle-chan?"

She gasped as his free hand slipped up her thigh, caressing her skin through the thin fabric of her sundress. "I . . ."

Capturing her earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently, he might have laughed at the violence of the tremor that passed through her if he didn't have other things on his mind, like what the proximity of her body was doing to his . . . "You want me, Belle; I know you do."

"I . . . you . . ."

"Tell me you do."

She shook her head. He growled, nipping her earlobe, and she shivered.

"I think you know as well as I do. We're inevitable, you and I . . ."

"Are . . . we?"

He let go of her to run his hands up and down her sides. She didn't notice that she was freed. Her head fell to the side, exposing the tender expanse of her neck for his perusal. Trailing the tip of his tongue up the curve of her neck as his hands brushed against her sides, Belle arched her back, both drawing away as she leaned closer at the same time. Cursing the new moon and the changes that prohibited his ability to monitor the changes in her scent, in her aura, he had to admit that the sounds of her soft sighs, of her stunted breaths were reward enough.

"You're beautiful, did you know?"

It took a moment for his words to make sense to her. Belle reluctantly opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Am I?"

"Are you trying to tell me you didn't know?"

She smiled weakly. "Sure, I knew that. I just didn't know you'd figured it out, too."

He tweaked her nose with his. "Impudent wench."

She reached back and tugged his hair playfully. "I should get up now," she mused.

"No, you shouldn't."

"Why not?"

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. "Because I like holding you this way."

"Thought you couldn't stand me."

He chuckled at the petulant lilt in her voice. "I tolerate you."

"That's not very flattering."

He rubbed his cheek against hers. "Stop fishing for compliments."

"Well, if you weren't so stingy with them . . ."

"One thing at a time, princess . . ."

She wrinkled her nose. "Does this mean you're saving your nastiness for tomorrow, after you've sobered up and realized that you were . . . nice?"

He made a face. "I'm not drunk, so there will be no sobering, and no, I wasn't planning on being nasty . . . but you know, there's something to be said for 'nasty' . . ."

She giggled then gasped as his hand trailed up her leg again, this time pushing up her skirt with the movement. "D-doctor . . ."

"Say it," he interrupted.

"Say what?"

"My name."

Her fingers tugged on his hair as her hands balled into fists, as her back arched again, as she quaked in his arms. "I . . . can't . . ."

He sighed, letting go of her as he sat back and closed his eyes for a moment. She sat up and turned to look at him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Belle."

She stood up and fussed with her skirt, biting her lower lip as she avoided his gaze.

At first he thought he'd scared her, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe she just needed a little more encouragement; needed to see that he really did see her as a person. "You know, I don't have anything to do tomorrow," he drawled.

Belle took his glass and refreshed his drink. "Oh?"

"Nope, not a thing. Is there anything . . . you want to do?"

She hesitated before screwing the cap back on the bottle. "Like what?"

"Anything . . . go somewhere . . . do something?"

Belle returned his drink and sat on the edge of the sofa with her hands tucked under her legs. "Well, there is one thing . . . but you'd probably think it's stupid."

He flinched as her expression fell. He didn't rightfully care if she said she wanted to watch paint dry all day. He'd agree to it, if she would just smile again. "Try me."

She scrunched up her shoulders as a hint of pinkness seeped into her cheeks. "There's an amusement park a couple hours from here," she began. "Daddy took me a few times . . ."

"An amusement park?" he echoed, eyebrows disappearing under his thick fringe of bangs. "You're serious?"

She forced a laugh. "Oh, no! I mean, you wouldn't . . . It's fine! I just . . . I don't know why I thought of something as . . . childish . . . as that . . ."

Kichiro shook his head. "Is that what you want to do? I'll take you there, if you want to go."

Belle's laughter died as she tried not to look anxious. "If you're sure . . ."

He grinned. "I'll do whatever you want, Belle, and I'll be good, I promise."

She finally smiled, and Kichiro caught his breath.

'_Kami, she's . . . gorgeous_ . . .'

She hopped up and kissed his cheek before running out of the living room. He watched her go and sighed. More than a little dubious about the whole idea of this amusement park, the smile on Belle's face . . .

That had definitely been worth it.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_Wildflowers and sex _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	39. Exhibition

**_Chapter 39_**

**_Exhibition

* * *

_**

Gin rolled over onto her back and tipped her head to stare up at the youkai who was idly stroking her hair. "You think I can meet him?"

Cain didn't glance up from his magazine. "Hmm? Who?"

Gin sat up and pushed his shoulder. "L'amont-san!"

He snorted. "Why is it you want to meet him?"

Gin rolled her eyes. "He's brilliant, Cain! He's one of the most renowned artists of our time . . . and he's not bad to look at, either."

"What?" Cain growled as the magazine fell out of his hand.

"I think it's his eyes," she mused, idly folding the pleats in her skirt. "I've always been a sucker for those big, green eyes . . ."

Cain pushed her off his lap and stood up, muttering under his breath about fickle women and nothing wrong with blue. Gin blinked and shrugged. "Cain? Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine," he grumbled. "Just fine."

She shifted, sitting on her knees as she clasped her hands in her lap and tilted her head. "I can't believe you know him! That's so _cool!_"

"Pfft. I told you; Pierre's . . . Well, he can be an ass." He shook his head. "And just what's wrong with blue?"

"Blue? Blue's nice . . ." she answered, obviously confused by his question. "I guess I should go get ready . . ."

Cain made a face. "Yeah, why don't you go to the damn thing? I'll just . . . I don't want to go."

"Oh . . . I see . . ."

He sighed when she ducked her head, ears flattening against her head as she chewed on her bottom lip. "Gin---"

"It's okay," she assured him. "If you don't want to go, then I won't go, either."

Damn it, he hated the fuss of exhibitions and openings. He hated the gala premiers and the social hierarchy of the art world. Schmoozing backstabbers and whispering gossipmongers . . . It was the side of his profession that he didn't want to deal with. Still it was all Gin had talked about for days. "Thought you wanted to meet the green-eyed wonder."

She peeked up at him, her eyes still troubled. "Sure, but . . . I wanted my first time to be with you."

Cain did a double-take and stifled a groan. "Gin, you know . . ." he trailed off with a quick shake of his head. He didn't have the heart to tell her that she'd just said something that could be taken the wrong way again. "You'd better get ready, unless you're going to wear that."

Glancing down at the short pink jumper-dress, she giggled. Complete with a cute, lacy pocket in the middle of the chest, it looked like something an eight year-old would wear, and the white bobby socks with pink lace ruffle trim didn't really help the ensemble, either. "What's wrong with this?" she teased.

Cain grinned. "Not a thing, baby girl; just not something someone would wear to an art exhibit."

"But you'd look so pretty!"

"Even though I don't have big green eyes?"

Gin's cheeks pinked as she stood up and wandered over to him. "Blue's nice, too . . . I . . . I like blue . . ."

"Do you? Somehow I feel like you're humoring me."

"I wouldn't humor you, Cain."

A shiver raced up and down his spine at the husky quality that had entered her tone. If she knew what she had done, she didn't react. He cleared his throat and forced a smile. "You'd better go get ready."

"Thank you for taking me to it."

He rolled his eyes, catching her hands and holding them loosely against his chest. "Yeah, we'll see if you're still thanking me after you're bored out of your mind."

She giggled. "It's kind of like a date, isn't it?" She winced and shook her head. "I mean, it's not, I know. Just . . . sort of . . ."

"Do you want it to be a date?" he asked slowly.

"Oh, no, I don't! Not at all! I mean---"

He leaned down, brushed a kiss over her lips, and when he straightened up, she was blushing. "Now you'd really better hurry. Dates should start on time, don't you think?"

"It's a date? Really?"

Cupping her cheek in his hand, he rubbed his thumb over her lips and smiled. "Whatever you want, Gin."

She bit her lip, cheeks reddening more, and she giggled. "Then I'd really better hurry . . . Oh, no, I'm even more nervous now!"

He laughed as she turned her face to kiss the palm of his hand before careening around to head for the door. Stopping before she left him, she shot him a brilliant smile and wiggled her fingers. He waved back, grinning as she left his apartment, trying not to consider just why making Gin smile made him happy.

'_You don't know why?_' his youkai prodded as Cain strode off to shower. '_That's simple, you know. It's because when she smiles, everything about her smiles, too. Eyes, mouth, even her youki is happier_ . . .'

'_Yeah_.'

'_It's her eyes. They're remarkable_.'

'_There's that_.'

'_And her ears. Her ears are pretty cute_.'

'_Those, too_.'

'_Cain?_'

'_Hmm?_'

'_We could . . . I mean, you . . . She's nice to have around, isn't she?_'

Cain turned on the shower taps, adjusted the water temperature, and sighed. '_She is. She's a little _too_ nice to have around_.'

He'd thought that maybe he could keep her at bay. He'd tried to tell himself that she was just a pretty girl. Gin was becoming as necessary to him as breathing, and he wasn't sure how she did it. He hadn't even looked at another woman in years. How was it that such a tiny slip of a girl could completely twist him inside out?

'_You know, she's nothing at all like Isabelle_.'

He grimaced and stepped into the shower, letting the drum of the hot water flow over him as he tried to make sense of it all. '_No, she's not_.'

'_It's not a bad thing, you know . . . You rushed things with Isabelle, and it wasn't until later that you realized the cost of it all_.'

'_I know_,' Cain agreed as he lathered his hair.

'_Gin doesn't care about the public or even about the prestige of your title. Then again, Isabelle didn't care about that, either, did she? She hated that you were tai-youkai. She'd have been happier if you were just human._'

'_She liked my life well enough. She loved the premiers and all that crap._'

'_Maybe but she never cared about the things that mattered most. She never wanted the same things you did. You know . . . I don't think she ever wanted to live your life_.'

'_I know that, too. Isabelle . . . She wasn't a mistake, but maybe . . . I don't know_.' To call Isabelle a mistake . . . Wouldn't that be the same as calling Bellaniece one, too? Cain shook his head. '_No, Bellaniece . . . she was never a mistake_.'

'_But Gin . . . Gin's special_.'

Tipping his head back to rinse the soap from his hair, Cain squeezed his eyes closed and sighed again. '_Of course she is. She's . . . It doesn't matter. I made a promise. I have to keep it, don't I?_'

'_You didn't make the promise to Isabelle, Cain. You didn't promise her a thing. She was already_---'

'_Don't say it_,' he thought with a grimace. '_It doesn't change a thing. I gave my word, and my word is my vow. I owe her that_.'

'_And what about Gin? Do you owe her anything?_'

Cain took his time lathering his body, absently noting that he needed a good shave. '_I don't owe Gin. I've never made a promise to her. I can't_.'

'_There are promises you make out loud, and there are the promises you make in your heart. Do you think that Gin will be all right, when all is said and done?_'

'. . . _We're just friends; no more, no less_.'

'_And you believe that?_'

'_Yeah, I do_.'

'_Then you're a fool, Zelig; a real fool_.'

Cain rinsed off and shut off the water. '_Maybe I am. Gin knows I have obligations. She understands that._'

'_She says she does to pacify you. Do you really think a girl like her can comprehend the promise you made?'_

'_Just what do you think I should do, then? Tell her the truth? About all of it?_'

His youkai was silent as Cain draped a towel around his hips and lathered his face to shave. '_Maybe you should explain it to her. She'd understand, I think_.'

'_She'll think I'm a monster. _I_ think I'm a monster. Gin . . . She really doesn't need to know_.'

'_You're going to hurt her, Cain, and you know it. Even if she weren't hanyou, she's the kind of woman who will love only once_.'

Cain scowled at his reflection as he stopped with his razor poised at his cheek. '_I'll never hurt her. It won't happen. I won't let it._'

'_You're a fool then. You can't control her emotions any better than you can stop seeing her. She's everything you've ever wanted; everything you never found in Isabelle. Just don't think that she's going to come out of this smelling like a rose because I don't see that happening_.'

'_She'll be fine. She's stronger than she looks_.'

'_You're good at denying things, Cain. Do you remember how long you tried to ignore Isabelle's feelings?_'

He had to set the razor down for a moment. The half-forgotten doubts and silent arguments with his youkai flashed through his mind, fresh and painful as they had been so long ago. He had tried to tell himself that he was imagining things. In the end . . . In the end, it had cost him dearly.

'_It's just one night, just one 'date'_,' Cain told himself stubbornly as he finished shaving and brushed out his hair. '_Nothing big---a stupid exhibition where I will be bored out of my mind_.'

'_Ask yourself this, then: if this is just a stupid exhibition and just a one measly date, why are you going, at all? No one---not even Bellaniece---can talk you into going to your own, and God only knows she's tried. Why are you going? Because Gin wants to go; that's why_.'

The cooler air in the hallway was a welcome change from the steamy bathroom dampness. Opting for the silk shirt Gin had bought him and a pair of black trousers, Cain dressed quickly and was tucking in his shirt when someone knocked on the door.

Grabbing his shoes and socks off the bed before darting out of his room and back down the hallway, Cain dropped the items on a chair as he breezed past on the way toward the door.

"Hey, you're . . . ready . . ." he trailed off, staring at Gin in something akin to awe.

She smiled nervously and shrugged as her cheeks pinked. "Your hair's down."

Cain nodded vaguely. "What? Oh, yeah . . ."

She stepped toward him, fingered his hair with a timid little grin. "I like it down."

"Do you?" he asked, trying to come to terms with the woman she'd suddenly become. That wasn't right. She was a woman when she'd left his apartment. It was just that now she looked more like one than ever.

'_You're going to freak her out if you don't get moving_,' his youkai grumbled. '_Stop staring at her like a fool and do something_.'

That snapped him out of his gawking, and he turned on his heel, heading for the chair where he'd left his shoes.

Gin closed the door and wandered over. "You look really nice," she told him, wringing her hands as she waited for him to put his shoes on.

He glanced at her and was struck again by the difference in her appearance. Gone was the fun and approachable girl he knew so well. She'd been replaced by a mysterious young woman in a filmy black dress that barely kissed her knees, billowing around her hips and legs with a whisper of movement. The top wrapped around her slender neck and fastened, and she'd pulled her hair up in a chignon though a few tendrils of hair had escaped to fall around her face. The entire vision of her left him speechless, breathless, dizzy . . .

She bit her lip, slowly shaking her head. "It's the dress, isn't it? You . . . you don't like it."

"What? No, it's . . . it's nice."

"Really? Good! I was worried . . . You didn't say anything, but Mama said it was perfect for the exhibition . . ."

"Your mother's seen it?" he asked, dangling his hands between his knees after he finished putting on his shoes.

She smiled almost apologetically. "I wasn't sure how to put my hair up, so Mama came over to help me. She just left . . ."

"You could have worn it down. I like it . . . down."

Her cheeks pinked a little more, and she quickly ducked her head. "It's the back of the dress, you know? It wouldn't have looked right if I had left my hair down." She peeped at him through her lashes and frowned slightly. "You haven't seen it, right?" Cain shook his head. Gin turned a slow circle and stared at him expectantly.

'_Oh, my God_ . . .'

'_Damn, Cain_ . . .'

'. . . _Yeah_ . . .'

There was nothing covering her back. The dress didn't actually clasp behind her neck but narrowed into two thin straps that crisscrossed over her back between her shoulder blades but the rest of her pale, soft skin was exposed to her waist. Her hair would have covered it, and while Cain could definitely appreciate the delicate curves of her body, he would be damned if anyone else would be doing the same . . . Her waist was impossibly tiny; every bit of her seemed more fragile, daintier, than he could credit. She looked frighteningly intangible to him---his tiny goddess set on bringing him to his knees . . .

"So . . . what do you think?" she finally asked as she clasped her hands before her and waited patiently for him to speak.

Cain had to clear his throat before he could answer. "It's . . . lovely."

Her smile was his reward, and he had to shake his head and look away before he did something really stupid, like demand that she change back into the cutesy little dress she'd worn all day. She looked good. She looked _damn_ good. Other guys were bound to notice, and that just didn't sit well with him, at all.

"We'd better hurry," she told him as she turned back toward the door. "We'll be late if we don't, and I already called a cab."

'_Oh, hell!_' Cain growled as Gin walked away. Every so often, the edge of the dress would slip just enough that he could see the tiny fairy temporary tattoo she'd gotten the week before. The effect was remarkable---and devastating.

'_We're going to die, Cain; we're going to die tonight_.'

'_Death by lethal Gin?_'

His youkai sighed. '_Something like that_.'

He swallowed hard as she stopped with the door open, waiting for him. '_Well, if I have to go, then that'd be as good a way as any._'

'_Yeah, just stay alive long enough to keep Pierre as far away from Gin as you can_.'

Cain made a face, scowl surfacing as Gin stepped into the hallway, oblivious to his shifting mood. '_Yeah . . . He'll stay away from her or I'll kill him._'

'_Kill him? He's your friend_.'

'_He might be a friend, but he's collected far too many pretty little things over the years . . . I'll be damned if he'll try to add Gin to his sordid collection_ . . .'

'_You could just tell Pierre that Gin's ours_.'

Cain snorted but didn't argue.

* * *

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* * *

"There he is!" 

Cain grimaced as Gin tugged on his arm and nodded toward the ferret-hanyou making his way through the milling crowd in the Edo-Tokyo Museum. The turnout was larger than Cain had expected. Though he'd been to a few of his own exhibitions, mostly at Isabelle's insistence, he had always been informed of the numbers, and Pierre had more people in attendance than Cain normally did. Then again, Cain hadn't ever really cared who had attended his, and it showed in the number of invitations. Consequently, the tickets for his premiers had become quite sought-after. Pierre had always basked in the limelight much more than Cain ever had or wanted to.

"He looks awfully busy . . . are you sure I can meet him?"

"Of course you can," he assured her.

Gin giggled and pointed at one of the portraits lining the walls of the conference room. "Wow, that one's really interesting! His use of color is just amazing."

Cain snorted. "It's a ball on a table, Gin."

"Yes, but the simplicity of it, and the shades of blue . . . It's really good."

Cain rolled his eyes. "That's not art! It's crap!"

Gin scowled at him. "It's not _crap!_ That's not nice! How would you like it if L'amont-san called your work 'crap'?"

"Actually---"

"So it's true! You've come out of hiding, Zelig? Still making the crap you call art, are you?"

Cain snorted again and pivoted to face Pierre L'amont as the ferret-hanyou strolled over, his attention completely on Gin and making no bones about letting his eyes rove over her in a completely predatory way. "Speak of the damn devil," Cain grumbled.

Pierre laughed. "I've been called many things, but devil? You flatter me, friend," he countered lightly, using the light French accent that he didn't really need. "And who is this enchanting woo-man?"

Bristling at the way Pierre had pronounced the word 'woman', Cain gritted his teeth and drew a calming breath. "This is Gin Izayoi---one of my students---and this is Pierre L'amont, purveyor of all things craptastic."

Gin shot him a quelling glare. He ignored it as Pierre reached out to grab Gin's hand---the one that was still resting on Cain's arm. Cain growled. Pierre grinned and lifted the back of Gin's hand to his lips without taking his gaze off the tai-youkai.

"I'm so pleased to meet you!" Gin gushed, obviously forgetting that the hand being held by the wayward ferret-hanyou was hers and should be returned. "Your work is just spectacular!"

"Ah, a woo-man with good taste . . . and I'll just bet you taste good, too."

Cain's arm shot out, catching Pierre on the shoulder and knocking him back a step. At least he'd let go of Gin . . . "Izayoi, Pierre . . . does the name ring a bell?"

"Can't say it does," Pierre remarked with a shrug and a wink at Gin. She giggled and cleared her throat.

"Izayoi, as in InuYasha. As in Sesshoumaru's half-brother. As in her father."

"Oh, the angry hanyou," Pierre mused with a nod.

"Yes, angry . . . and he doesn't like perverted lechers like you sniffing around his daughter."

Pierre shot him a calculated glance and chuckled. "Learn this first hand, have you, Lord Dog?"

Cain snorted. "Hardly. I'm not afraid of InuYasha. I could take him."

Gin choked then coughed. "Cain . . ."

Cain figured he'd hear about that later, but didn't rightfully care, either.

"I would dare the wrath of the angry hanyou for this girl. She's an absolutely stunning little bite, wouldn't you say, Zelig?"

Cain jammed his hands into his pockets and shrugged offhandedly. "Miss Izayoi is my _student_," he growled.

"Student? What are you teaching her?"

Cain opened his mouth to tell his friend to shove it. Gin's voice interrupted. "I . . . I think I need to find the little girls' room, if you'll excuse me."

Wincing inwardly as she walked away, Cain sighed and slowly shook his head.

'_Nice, idiot. Way to stick your foot in it_.'

'_Shut up_.'

'_You told her it was a date_.'

Cain pushed aside the guilt that ate at his stomach. '_It is_ . . .'

'_Do you call all your dates 'Miss'?_'

'_All right, I got the point. I'll apologize later_.'

'_Yeah, just don't dig your hole any deeper_.'

'_Okay, okay . . . now will you shut up?_'

His youkai snorted.

"Your student, huh?"

Cain shifted his gaze back to the ferret-hanyou once more. "Yeah, my student."

Pierre digested that for a moment then nodded. "All right. If she's just your student, then you won't mind if I ask her to dinner while I'm in Tokyo."

"Over my dead body."

"Do you care so much?"

Cain shrugged. "She's . . . my daughter's friend."

"Ah, yes, Bellaniece . . . how old is she now?"

Cain's glower narrowed. "Don't even think about it."

Pierre held his hands up in mock surrender. "It's nice that you're pretending that you're just Miss Izayoi's teacher, but you're ignoring the facts."

"Which are?"

"You never come to these things. Why are you here if not for her?"

"I was ambushed by her mother," Cain argued. "She put me on the spot. What would she have thought if I'd said that I didn't want to escort her daughter to this godforsaken thing?"

"And since when have you given a rat's ass about what other people thought of you?"

"Call it a favor, then. Her uncle _is_ Sesshoumaru."

"Sorry I took so long," Gin apologized as she stopped beside Cain again. She wouldn't look at him. He stifled a sigh.

Pierre smiled almost indulgently at her. "You look like you could use a drink," he told her. "Allow me to get you a glass of champagne."

"Pierre---" Cain began in a warning tone.

"Lighten up, Zelig. One glass of champagne never hurt anyone, and you've already tried to ruin her fun for the evening." He smiled at Gin again. "Pardon, mademoiselle. I'll be right back."

"This is, um . . . really, um . . . Thanks for coming with me."

Cain sighed and reached out to touch Gin's arm. She turned away as if she didn't see him. He might have believed she didn't if he hadn't heard her smothered whine---a sound that she hadn't intended for him to hear, at all. "Gin---"

"Oh, look at that painting, Cain! I think . . . I think I'll go get a closer look."

He watched her go and rubbed his forehead. Pierre stopped her, handed her a champagne flute, whispered something that made her smile, and moved away. "Damn it . . ."

"She's a beautiful woman, no?"

Cain took the glass of champagne from Pierre and shrugged. "Is she?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"So what if I have? It doesn't change a thing."

"You've always been a bit of a fool, haven't you?"

"Maybe," he replied as he downed the champagne. Gin sipped hers and rubbed her nose. She was smiling and chatting with the curator of the museum, and that smile . . . It somehow broke his heart.

"Well, if you're not interested in her, then maybe I should see if she's available for lunch sometime."

"Stay the hell away from her," Cain growled.

"Why should I? She's available . . . I'm available . . . we could be _un_available together . . ."

Cain shook his head, setting the empty glass on a small table nearby. "Gin's not that kind of girl, Pierre."

Pierre shrugged. "I've been thinking that I should start really looking for my mate," he remarked. "I think I could stand being with her for a long, long time."

"Touch her, and I swear on all that is holy, I'll kill you, myself."

Pierre clucked his tongue as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his rumpled trouser. "You treat her like a toy, Zelig. If you don't want her, you shouldn't be holding her back from meeting someone else, don't you think?"

Cain wasn't inclined to agree, and his expression said as much. Pierre chuckled, but sighed as he shrugged and swallowed the last of his champagne. "What's going on with the two of you, and don't say she's just your student. She calls you by name."

"There's nothing going on," he argued stubbornly. "She's just a really sweet girl---Bellaniece's friend."

"You bring your daughter's friend to an art exhibit?"

"I told you; she's Sesshoumaru's niece. I had to bring her."

"So you let her drag you out of your comfort zone into the lion's den, so to speak?"

"Think what you will. Not everyone is as perverse as you."

"I know you better than most, Zelig, and I'm not stupid, either. Bellaniece's friend, indeed . . ."

"Look, I told you, there's nothing going on. Gin's nothing to me---_nothing_."

A small choked sound stopped Cain's angry tirade. Both men turned around only to find Gin standing just behind them. Too many people, too many scents, too much noise . . . he hadn't heard her approach. Golden eyes wide, hurt, she stepped back as her face colored in a painful flush. Nostrils quivering just a little, just enough to give her away, she looked like she was ready to cry despite her will not to do so.

Cain didn't say anything. He didn't trust himself to speak. Unable to meet her gaze for long, Cain strode out of the museum, digging into his pockets for a cigarette only to remember that he didn't have any on him. '_Easily remedied_,' he thought as he ran down the stone steps and toward the nearest store, ignoring the condemnations echoing through his head in his youkai's voice.

* * *

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* * *

Gin twisted her hands together as she stared at the floor and told her self that she wasn't really going to cry. 

"_Gin's nothing to me_---nothing."

She felt her chin twitch as her lips trembled. The hot prickle of tears stung her eyes, and she blinked furiously to stave them back.

A warm arm closed over her shoulders, and suddenly she was stumbling forward as her vision blurred and as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye, much to her horror. She didn't know who was escorting her, nor where they were taking her---her nose had clogged, too, curse the stupid tears. She dashed the back of her hand over her eyes and sniffled, accepting the white handkerchief that was offered to her.

"He's always been a little stupid."

Gin managed a pathetic laugh as she dabbed her eyes. "Oh, it's nothing . . . I'm fine."

Pierre sighed, letting his arm drop away from her shoulders as he closed the door and leaned against it. Gin looked around at the small waiting room. She'd never been in one of these before. Located off the main convention room, these were the rooms where the guests could retreat for a moment to collect themselves or just to relax. "Zelig's words were uncalled-for. I don't think he meant it, anyway."

She shrugged. "No, I think he did. I mean . . . You don't say something unless you mean it somewhere deep down, right?"

Pierre seemed almost apologetic as he shook his head and shrugged. "Zelig's never been good at expressing his feelings. Frankly I'm amazed me that he was able to keep his feet out of his mouth long enough to woo Isabelle . . . He's got a tendency to be a bit socially inept when it comes to beautiful women, as you've seen for yourself, I don't doubt."

She tried to smile. "I'm not beautiful."

"You sure about that?"

She winced. "It doesn't matter, anyway. He said . . ."

"Zelig's a fool," Pierre remarked, casually flicking a bit of dirt of his sleeve. "Occupational hazard. Most artists aren't very good with actual people."

Gin's ears flattened momentarily at the mention of Cain's wife's name. "Did you know her?"

"Her?"

She nodded. "Isabelle."

"Ah, yes . . . A beautiful woman, that Isabelle. Far better than Zelig deserved, that's for sure . . ."

"I see."

Pierre chuckled and handed Gin another glass of champagne. She stared rather dubiously at the drink. "I don't think I should . . . I don't usually drink alcohol."

"It's just champagne. No one gets drunk off champagne."

Gin nodded and sipped the liquid, wrinkling her nose when the carbonation hit the back of her throat. "The bubbles tickle," she admitted, swatting at her nose with her free hand. Pierre chuckled as Gin's scowled at the crystal champagne flute in her hands. "How long have you known Cain?"

"I don't rightly know . . . it seems like I've known him forever. Before you ask, he's always been moody and pensive. I imagine some things never change."

"He's not so moody," she replied as she sipped her champagne. "I mean, he . . . teases me some, and plays with me a little bit . . . and he doesn't get angry with me when I ask stupid questions . . ."

"That doesn't surprise me," Pierre commented as he wandered over to the makeshift wet bar and poured himself a drink. "You strike me as a very special young woman. I'd be surprised if even the mighty Cain Zelig could ignore the likes of you."

"He doesn't talk about Isabelle very much. I'm sort of afraid to ask him. I did once, you know?" She sighed and shook her head. "He got really mad . . ."

"That doesn't surprise me . . . I'd imagine he was angrier about having to think about her than he was at you, no?"

"I know that she was a dancer, and I know that she died when Bellaniece was an infant. What . . . what was she like?"

"Isabelle wasn't just a dancer, m'dear. She was an aspiring Broadway actress. If Zelig hadn't snatched her up when he did, she would have been a huge star."

"Oh . . . that makes sense. She'd have to be beautiful, wouldn't she?"

"We tried to tell him. Isabelle wanted different things than he did. He wouldn't listen; not to me, not to Sesshoumaru . . . not to anyone."

Gin frowned and slowly shook her head as she set her empty glass aside. Pierre filled another glass with the same liquid that he was drinking and pushed the glass into her hand. She stared at it and sniffed it, making a face as the fumes from the drink made her cough. "What is this?"

"Just a little scotch---Zelig's drink of choice, by the way."

"I don't know," she hedged, swirling the liquid as she eyed it dubiously. "It smells really strong."

"You're going home with him, right? You'll be fine as long as you aren't driving."

That didn't make sense to her, but she shrugged inwardly and cautiously sipped the drink.

Pierre winced and gently slapped her back when she choked and gagged then coughed unmercifully. "That's . . . strong!" she rasped out. Pierre held out his hand for the glass. Gin cradled it to her chest, blinking back tears brought on by the round of coughing.

"You don't have to drink it," he remarked with a thoughtful frown.

Gin shook her head. "No, it's . . . I kind of like it," she replied, clearing her throat before daring another swallow. At least the second one wasn't quite as bad, but she couldn't help the little cough that came after.

Pierre sighed. "You will get drunk off that, though," he warned.

Gin waved her limp hand and swallowed the rest of the scotch. "One glass . . . I won't get drunk off one glass! I'm hanyou!"

He laughed at that and shrugged. "You feeling better now? If your guard dog comes back, he'll tear this place apart to find you."

"Cain doesn't . . . own me," Gin insisted as she slowly shook her head. "I'm an adult, you know. He thinks I'm still a child, just like Papa . . . Just like everyone." She felt her ears flatten and heaved a sigh. "He says he doesn't, but I think he's lying. If he didn't . . . If he didn't think that, he wouldn't have said I was nothing to him, right?"

Pierre held out his hand. Gin didn't hesitate as she set the glass down and slipped her hand into his, letting him lead her back to the conference room.

"I love your painting!" Gin exclaimed softly, stopping before the first one she came to. "This one is just . . . It speaks to me."

Pierre shrugged, hands in his pockets. Gin took a glass of champagne from the mingling waiter and winked at the boy. The young man blushed and stammered before nearly dropping the tray of drinks as he hurried away. Gin frowned and shook her head. "I think he's been into the champagne," she said, leaning toward Pierre and whispering conspiratorially.

Pierre coughed. "Maybe."

"That was just curious."

"Let me give you my cell phone number," Pierre offered. "Maybe we can get together for lunch sometime next week."

"That'd be great!" she said.

"Do you have a pen and paper?"

Gin scrunched up her face as she thought it over. "No . . . but I have my cell phone. You could call it, then I'd have your number in the memory."

"Or I could just program it into your phone."

Gin clapped her hands as she grinned then dug her cell phone out of her purse. Pierre chuckled and took the device as Gin drained her champagne glass and grabbed another. "I should give you my number, right? Because that'd be the polite thing to do, and Mama always said I have to be p'lite."

"It's fine," Pierre began absently as he keyed in his number.

Gin waved him off and squared her shoulders before she strode over to interrupt a couple of men nearby who were examining a painting. A strange fuzziness had engulfed her mind, but Gin didn't question it. It made her feel pleasantly giddy, and she liked the change. "S'cuse me. I hate to be a bother, but would either of you gentlemen have a pen I can borrow?"

The nearest man seemed surprised by her request but pulled a pen from the inner pocket of his dinner jacket. Gin touched his arm and smiled. "Thank you! You're so nice! I should do something nice for you, too . . ." She frowned. "Can I do anything for you?"

The man's surprise dissipated, and he laughed. "No, it's fine. Just return it when you're finished."

Gin nodded. "I will! I'm going to give L'amont-san my cell phone number. Thank you!"

She hurried back with the pen, clicking the end to expose the point and retract it again over and over. A napkin sufficed for paper, and she scribbled her name and number on the flimsy scrap. Pierre held out her phone. Gin tucked the napkin into the pocket of his rumpled shirt and patted it. "There! You have my---"

"Gin, what the hell are you doing?"

She stiffened at the anger in Cain's tone and slowly turned to look at him. "I gave him my phone number," she explained, taking care not to slur her words. "It's called being polite---which you are not, you big . . . meanie."

He shook his head, gaze narrowing as he stepped closer to her. "You're . . . drunk?"

She leaned back indignantly, lifting her chin as she tossed her head to the side. "Don't be silly, Zelig-sensei! I'm not drunk."

Cain glowered over her head at Pierre and reached out a hand to steady Gin when she swayed just a little. "Okay, I think we need to take you home."

Gin tugged her arm away. "I need to return the pen I borrowed," she insisted, shoving the pen under Cain's nose. "It's not nice to borrow something and then not return it." That said, she careened around and stumbled over to the young man she'd gotten the pen from. Returning his bright smile, she held out the pen and bowed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she told him.

"You're---" the man cut himself off as Gin leaned on his arm and quickly pressed a kiss on his cheek.

A rough growl erupted behind them, and Gin found herself tugged back against a very solid chest. "Let's go, baby girl," Cain rumbled through clenched teeth.

She blinked and leaned her head back to gaze up at him. "You're _really_ tall, you know it?

He sighed, muttering goodbye to Pierre as he guided Gin toward the door. He took her champagne glass and handed it to a waiter before pushing open the doors and leading her out into the night. "How much did you have to drink?" he demanded.

She shrugged. "Dunno . . . not that much . . ."

He sighed again. "Where's a taxi when you need one?" he grouched.

"We can walk," she told him. "I can, anyway . . ."

"A taxi would be better."

Gin bit her lip, leaning heavily on Cain since her balance seemed to be way off. "Cain?"

"Hmm?"

"Why does Pierre call you 'Zelig'?"

Cain shrugged. "Because that's my real name."

"Oh . . ." she said, mouth rounding as she slowly nodded. "Cain?"

"Yes, Gin?"

She sighed. "Why were you mean to me? Did I do something to make you angry?"

"Mean?"

She shook her head, ears flattening as she stared at the concrete sidewalk. "You said . . . you said I was nothing." She sniffled. "That wasn't very nice."

He was quiet for a moment, but he pulled Gin a little closer. "I didn't mean that."

"I . . . I wouldn't have said that; not about you."

"Yeah," he replied, his voice strangely vague. "I know you wouldn't. I'm sorry."

She finally dared a glance at him. He was glowering off into the distance, as though he weren't really seeing anything at all. "It's okay. I don't mind. Cain?"

"Yes?"

"This wasn't really a date, was it? Not to you."

"Gin . . ."

"That's fine, too. I'm glad it wasn't really a date. If it were a date, I'd never want to go on another one, ever again."

He winced and pulled her toward the darkened alley beside the museum before kneeling down and catching her hand to pull her onto his back. "Come on. I'll take you home now."

She giggled softly as he held onto her and leapt onto the nearest building. The night was cool and fresh despite the staleness of the city around them. Up so high, it was easy to forget that the tired old buildings below them existed. It was easier to believe that they were the only two people anywhere in the world. "This is better than a taxi."

She heard the hint of amusement in his tone as he vaulted to the next structure. "Yeah, it is."

Gin closed her eyes and rested her cheek on his shoulder, a small smile forming on her lips as she snuggled a little closer.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_

* * *

_

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_What the hell is she doing_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	40. Discomfort

**_Chapter 40_**

**_Discomfort

* * *

_**

'_I'm in hell. I'm really in hell. I didn't think it'd be possible to be in as much hell as I am right now. This just . . . damn it_ . . .'

'_Suck it up, Cain. It's not that bad_.'

'_What the hell do you mean, it's not that bad? It's bad, all right. It's horrible bad_ . . .'

'_She's drunk; that's all. Just a little drunk_.'

'_Uh huh . . . That's like saying that the Tower of Pisa is only leaning just a little_ . . .'

Gin crawled onto the counter, the hem of her dress riding precariously high, as she sought to rummage through the cupboards in her search for something to eat. Cain grimaced and stood behind her in case she fell. "Be careful, will you?"

"I have the dexterity of a cat!" she pronounced, holding her arms out as she tiptoed along the counter edge. "I won't---_eep!_"

Cain caught her and shook his head. "The dexterity of a cat, huh?"

She giggled. "I fell for you, Cain."

'_Hell, I tell you_.'

"Will you go get my shoe?"

He sighed. She'd lost one of her shoes somewhere along the way home. She hadn't bothered to tell him that, though. He shook his head. "It's just a shoe, Gin. It'll be fine."

"But I liked that shoe. It matched my dress."

Wincing at the flattening of her ears, Cain carefully straightened the neck of her dress. "You want to change? I can run over and get something for you to wear," he offered, setting her back on her feet on the floor. "Stay off the counters, cat-girl."

Gin shook her head. "Can't. Lost my keys."

"You lost your keys?" he repeated.

"Uh huh."

"When did you lose those?"

She shrugged. "When I lost my shoe."

"Yeah . . . and why didn't you tell me you'd lost your shoe?"

Gin frowned and shuffled over to the sofa, dropping onto it with a hefty grunt. "I did. You weren't listening."

He wrinkled his nose. "I think I'd have known if you said you'd lost your shoe _and_ keys."

"I did," she argued. "I said, 'Oops'."

He blinked, hands draped on hips as he tried to decide whether or not she was being serious. She looked serious enough. She looked . . . Cain cleared his throat and forced his gaze away from Gin, lying prone on the sofa, elbows bent with her hands on either side of her head, her eyes half-closed as she stared at him. "Yeah, I didn't get that you'd lost your keys from the 'oops'," he grumbled. "Did you leave your window open?"

She groaned as she sat up. "Nope. It was going to rain. Mama said so, so I closed the windows."

"Damn it."

Bracing her hands on the edge of the sofa, she leaned forward. "Don't you want me here, Cain? Are you going to kick me out?" Her ears flattened. "That'd be mean, you know . . ."

He shook his head. "Of course not. I just thought I'd get something else for you to wear. You could wear one of my shirts."

"I like this dress," she countered, rising to her unsteady feet. "You don't like it?"

"I like it just fine," he assured her. "It just doesn't look very comfortable."

Gin stared at him for a moment as she twisted a lock of her hair around her finger. "Dance with me, Cain."

"What?"

She shrugged and let go of her hair. "Dance with me."

"Here?"

She nodded as she slowly sauntered toward him. "Here . . . now . . ."

"There's no music."

"Have a radio?"

"I've not danced in a long time, Gin. I'd step all over you."

"I'm hanyou. I'm tough."

He shook his head, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Why do you want to dance with me?"

"Why don't you want to?"

"I never said that."

She smiled. "Then you'll do it?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he nodded. "All right. Let me see if I can find anything on the radio."

'_This might be a bad idea_,' Cain's youkai mused as he turned on the radio and flipped through the stations.

'_Probably_.'

'_So why'd you say you'd do it?_'

Finding a station that was playing something soft and vaguely familiar, Cain turned around and held out a hand toward Gin. '_Because_,' he thought as Gin slipped her arms around his neck, '_because she's . . . beautiful_.'

"Mmm . . . you dance well."

Cain pulled Gin a little closer and chuckled. "You do, too, especially for being drunk."

"I'm not drunk," she argued. "I'm . . . happy."

"Happy, huh? Very happy, if you ask me."

"Are you mad at me? Because I'm . . . 'happy'?"

Cain frowned and leaned back to see her face. "Why would I be? How much did you have to drink, anyway?"

Her eyebrows drew together in a marked frown as she considered his question. "Hmm . . . I only had a few glasses of champagne . . ."

"You're 'happy' off a few glasses of champagne?" he asked dubiously.

"Yeah . . . and that glass of scotch . . ."

"The glass of what?"

"Scotch," she repeated, ears flattening momentarily. "It burned my throat."

"I'll bet it did," he agreed with a shake of his head. "That's not a baby girl drink."

She giggled. "I liked the champagne, though. It tickled my nose."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry about tonight. I just . . . I wasn't . . . I didn't . . ."

Her fingers on his lips stopped him. Her eyes were veiled, darkened, and she gazed at him with emotion that he couldn't interpret. Sad and lost, she could have been a million miles away instead of right there in his arms. She tried to smile but quickly looked away. She drew a heavy sigh and shook her head, and he thought for an agonizing moment that she was going to break down and cry. "It's okay. I just want to be with you."

"Gin . . ."

This time she did smile---an enigmatic turning of her lips that tore him apart even worse than her tears ever could. "No, Cain. I'd rather that you don't say anything than to hear you say something you don't really mean."

"All right," he agreed quietly. "You, uh . . . You're still my cake fairy?"

Her smile brightened, and she was suddenly the girl he knew so well. "Yeah. What would you eat for breakfast, otherwise?"

He nodded, lifting a hand to brush back the errant strands of hair that had escaped her chignon. "What would I do without you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you."

Gin shrugged, ducking her head before he could see the blush filter into her cheeks. He reached up and gently pulled the bobby pins from her hair. They clinked against the floor as he dropped them, one by one; as Gin's hair tumbled over his fingers, and he closed his eyes. "Your hair is amazing," he muttered as he opened his eyes again. "There are a million colors in the strands, did you know?"

"Are there?"

He nodded, bringing a lock of her hair to his lips. "You looked . . . really . . . beautiful tonight. I think maybe I forgot to tell you that."

"Cain---"

"No, I need to say this," he insisted. "I was an ass, and---"

She shook her head. "No, Cain, I . . ."

Her eyes widened suddenly, and without another word, she wheeled around and ran straight toward the bathroom with her hands smashed over her mouth. Cain winced then sighed, knowing what he'd find when he caught up with her.

Scotch was definitely not a drink for baby girls . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin sat on the edge of the closed toilet with her knees together and her feet spread. Sniffling as she worked the buttons of the oversized shirt Cain had given her to change into after she's vomited all over her dress, she heaved a sigh and flicked her ears since she'd also gotten water in them when she'd taken a quick shower, too.

'_How embarrassing . . . I'm never coming out of the bathroom again_,' she thought as she slowly shook her head.

'_Cain didn't seem to care. He just seemed upset because you were throwing up_,' her youkai pointed out reasonably.

She made a face. '_I shouldn't have gotten up today_,' she pouted. '_I should have just stayed in bed where I was safe, and where I'd never tasted scotch again . . . If I ever smell it again, I just might throw up _. . .'

A soft knock sounded on the door. Gin hurriedly wiped her cheeks and cleared her throat. "It's open," she called.

Cain cautiously stuck his head into the bathroom, and after making sure she was fully clothed, he shouldered open the door and stepped inside. "Here you go," he said gently, handing her a brown paper bag. "Feeling better?"

"I will," she replied, unable to meet his eyes as she stared at the floor and concentrated on not blushing. "I just need to brush my teeth, is all."

"I got you the low-foam toothpaste you wanted, and a toothbrush, too."

"Thank you."

"You know, the first time I got drunk, I . . . I threw up everywhere," he admitted, jamming his hands into his pockets as he leaned back against the doorframe.

"You did?"

He nodded. "Yep . . . that's why I won't drink sake now."

"You don't think I'm . . . gross?"

He chuckled. "No, I don't."

Gin dug the toothpaste out of the bag and winced at the lime green dinosaur on the tube. Bubble gum flavored toothpaste . . . She'd always used the same kind, mostly because InuYasha couldn't stand the stronger, mintier flavors. She hadn't really thought about how babyish it looked till she was staring at the tube in her hands, and the blush she'd been carefully holding back shot to the fore when she pulled out the hot pink plastic Barbie toothbrush next.

"I thought it matched the toothpaste," he said with a strategically placed cough.

Gin's ears flattened as she forced herself to smear toothpaste onto the child's brush. "It does," she agreed, inflicting as much cheerfulness into her tone as she could muster. "It's great!"

"Gin?"

She shook her head. "Leave, please, so I can brush my teeth."

"You have to be alone to do that?"

Gin shrugged. "You want to see me frothing at the mouth?"

He chuckled. "Might be worth seeing . . ."

"Get out, Cain!" she insisted.

He laughed and ducked out of the bathroom, quietly pulling the door closed behind himself.

She brushed her teeth longer than usual, but it did the trick. She felt much better afterward, and she even managed a smile when she looked in the mirror. Stuffing the toothpaste and toothbrush back into the bag, she tried not to think about why it bothered her, that he had bought her a toothbrush that was meant for a child.

'_I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it. He probably did just think it was cute_.'

Brushing out her hair, she sniffled and slowly shook her head. '_Yeah, maybe_.'

'_You don't really think there was more to it than that, do you? Cain's not mean that way. He thought you'd find it amusing, I'm sure_.'

'_Of course he did_,' she agreed. '_It _was_ amusing. He thinks I'm a little girl; that's all . . . even if he says he doesn't._'

'_Are you sure about that?_'

'_I don't know. I don't know anything, really_.'

'_You could ask him_.'

Gin shook her head. '_No, I can't, and even if I could, we're just friends, right? Just . . . friends_.'

'_Okay then, if that's what you want to believe . . . Smile, doll. Cain doesn't like it when you're sad_.'

Drawing a deep breath as she pressed a hand to her stomach and reached for the door handle, Gin straightened her back and shook her hair back. '_Smile . . . I can do that_ . . .'

Cain was sitting on the sofa. Gin wandered over and sat down beside him. "Feel any better?"

She smiled. "Yes, thanks. I just needed to brush my teeth. I'm all better now. Thanks for the toothbrush and toothpaste."

"Yeah, about the toothbrush . . . You aren't upset with me, are you?"

Gin shook her head. "No . . . should I be?"

He turned toward her, rested his elbow on the back of the sofa and propped his temple against his fist. "You didn't seem very happy about it, and I'm sorry. I thought you'd think it was cute. If you want me to, I can go get you a . . . big girl toothbrush."

Gin let her head fall against the back of the sofa and shrugged. "It's fine. I wasn't upset."

Cain grimaced. "You're a terrible liar, baby girl," he informed her, dragging his index finger along the contour of her cheek.

"Cain? I don't want to drink ever again."

He chuckled. "No, I don't suppose you do. Come here."

She let him pull her onto his lap, cradling her head against his heart as she sighed, toying with the lock of hair that had fallen over his shoulder. "If I asked you to let me do something, would you let me?"

"Depends on what it is."

"I want to touch your stripes."

"You . . . why?"

"I like them," she replied simply.

Cain frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea . . ." he drawled.

Gin made a face and sat up. "Please? Pretty please? I'll . . . I'll let you play with my ears," she offered, twitching the appendages right under Cain's nose.

"That's . . . bribery."

"That's right. So how about it, Cain Zelig. You wanna touch 'em?"

For a moment she thought he was going to decline. He sighed and shook his head but his eyes were shining as he slowly reached for one of her ears.

"Ah-ah," she said quickly, flattening her ears before he could touch them. "I get to see the crests, right?"

He wrinkled his nose. "You're using me for my crests?"

She started fumbling with his buttons and snorted. "Of course I am!" she assured him. "What other reason would there be?"

"I feel so . . . violated."

Gin sighed impatiently, cracking her knuckles just before shredding the front of Cain's shirt in her haste to get to his crests.

"Gin?" he rasped out, gaping at the hanyou who was staring in spellbound attention at the turquoise stripes that wrapped over his abdomen.

"You're the great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, ferocious and _virile_ North America tai-youkai, Cain Zelig," she told him, "so suck it up! You have a hundred shirts in your closet!"

He shook his head and choked out a wheezing sort of breath. "You ruined . . . _oh, God_," he gasped, body jerking involuntarily as she scooted back and leaned down in one movement, her tongue flicking out against his stripes just before she sat up straight with a thorough scowl on her features.

"They should be flavored," she mused. "Don't you think?"

He looked stunned, and he shook his head, stammering slightly as he tried to form words.

"Cain?"

It was her turn to gasp as Cain sat up, grabbed her shoulders to drag her against him. His mouth was hot, burning her as he smashed her lips under his. She could feel his shoulders trembling under her hands, could feel the intensity of his emotions overwhelming her as he nudged her mouth open with his tongue, as he wrapped his arms around her, his hands caressing her sides.

She whimpered quietly, the sound muffled by his mouth. He broke the kiss only to trail his lips along her chin, down her throat. Sensation overrode her anxiety; and at least for the moment, she knew that he thought she was beautiful, after all. The erratic pulse of her heart was like a magnet to him. Suckling the tender flesh of her throat, he moaned. Gin wrapped her arms around him, unable to do more than to cling to him, to revel in the almost painful throbbing that centered somewhere deep inside her. She felt like she was going to shatter, to break, but maybe---just maybe---Cain could save her . . .

But the ache grew steadily worse as Cain's touch grew more ardent. He only had to use one arm to support her, and his free hand . . . The brush of fingertips on delicate shoulders, the tickle of claws canvassing her collarbones, the whisper of a palm gliding over her breast . . . the cotton fabric chafed her, and the heat of the contact between the two of them wrenched a silent sob from the depths of her soul.

His mouth returned to hers, his kiss driven by an invisible need that Gin felt, too. Her hands fell to his chest, the need to touch him spurring her on. He unleashed a savage growl, caught her hands in his as his body tensed. She leaned into him, fingers wrapping around his thumbs, and he moaned as his tongue met hers somewhere in the middle, stroking, delving, searching, scorching. It registered in her addled mind that he was moving her. She felt herself fall back but didn't stop to consider it until the weight of his body covered hers, pinned her against the sofa. Parting her legs with his knee, the welcome pressure shifted into the consuming need to be closer, much closer, and she arched her back, lifted her hips, grinding her body against as innocence gave way to instinct and the comforting knowledge that he would know what it was she desperately needed. The grinding motion helped to alleviate the tension building inside her but instead of soothing her; it was only making the ache inside her that much worse.

His hands tangled in her hair, holding her head as he kissed her time and again. He moved against her; a steady cadence that decimated her strained nerves. A million tiny explosions engulfed her as her body reacted to his. She felt the swelling rise of something frightening yet beautiful; something that could destroy her or set her free . . .

The click of the answering machine cut through the haze that blanketed Gin's mind. She hadn't heard the phone ring.

"Daddy? It's Bellaniece. Just wanted to call since I hadn't spoken to you today . . . I hope this means you're out among the living instead of closeted away in your studio . . . Anyway, love you, and I'll call again later. Bye bye!"

Cain grimaced and leaned up to reach over the sofa and smack the answering machine off the table. It hit the wall with a loud crash and fell to the floor in a pitiful heap of debris. "Gin, I . . . I need . . . to . . . stop . . ."

"Cain . . ." she whispered.

He kissed her gently and sighed. "I know," he answered gruffly, regret coloring his voice though he made no move to sit up. Letting his forehead drop against hers, he closed his eyes and drew a few ragged breaths. "I . . . I'm sorry . . . oh hell, I'm not sorry; I just . . . I wish you weren't drunk."

Gin shook her head, frowning in confusion. He wasn't making sense at all, and she couldn't control the raging emotions that still twisted around inside her. "I'm not---"

"Listen, Gin . . . You've never . . . and I can't---"

"It's because of Isabelle, right?" Gin swallowed hard and tried to push Cain aside. He didn't budge. "Because I'm not her?"

Cain didn't move for a moment. Gin couldn't meet his gaze even though she could feel the intensity of it boring into her head. With a muffled curse, he pushed off the sofa, stalking around the living room as he raked his hands through his hair in complete exasperation.

Gin winced as he slammed his fist down on the dining table. It shook and creaked but didn't break. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I . . . I shouldn't have said---"

"Damn right, you shouldn't have said that!" he bellowed. Gin grimaced and scrunched up her shoulders as she sat up, pulling her legs up to her chest and trying to make herself as tiny as possible. "Why in the hell would you say something so _fucking stupid?_"

"Isn't that it?" she whispered, blinking to stave back the tears that tried to surface. "Isabelle---"

"Is dead, Gin---_dead!_ She's been dead for years, and using you to fantasize about her . . . Damn it, what the hell kind of monster do you really think I am?"

Gin shook her head, bit her lip, ears flattening as the volume of his voice escalated.

"Is that what you think? That I'm with you because you remind me of her? _Is it?_"

"I don't . . . I don't know why . . . I don't know anything; not really . . ."

Cain sighed and dragged his hand over his face. Gin could feel the anger draining out of him, and though she didn't understand why, she did understand that he hadn't really been angry at her, in the first place.

'_You hurt him, doll. Your question . . . You've got to know how hard it is for him to open up to anyone_.'

Gin choked back a sob and hurriedly wiped away the single tear that had managed to escape. "I'm sorry," she told him again. "Cain, I . . ."

He stared at her for several moments then strode over and sat beside her. "It's not like that, Gin . . . I shouldn't . . . I'm not supposed to feel this way about you, and for the record? You're nothing like Isabelle. You're not meant to be. You're you, and that's fine with me."

"But," she began, shaking her head, "then why did you stop?"

"You don't know?"

She shook her head again.

He smoothed her hair out of her face, wiped the last trace of tears from her cheek. "You've never done . . . anything . . . before, and I would be a monster if it had been while you were drunk and for the wrong reasons. Can you understand that?"

She thought it over and jerked her head 'yes'. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she told him.

Cain smiled just a little, his expression almost sad. He stood up and held out his hand, waiting for her. "Come on, baby girl. It's been a long day. You'll feel better in the morning---unless you're hung over, that is . . ."

Gin slowly reached out, slipped her hand into his and let him lead the way to the bedroom.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

… _I wasn't THAT drunk _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	41. Funtown

**_Chapter 41_**

**_Funtown

* * *

_**

Kichiro tried not to glare at the Styrofoam cup in his hands. The once proud coffee had been brought to its proverbial knees when Belle, in one of her more inspired moments of the day, had dropped a huge hunk of fudge into the steaming cup.

"_It'll be good," she'd said with a happy grin. "It'll taste just like a latte_."

And that would have been fine . . . if Kichiro liked latte. He didn't. He liked his coffee strong and black. Belle gazed at him over the edge of her cup---she'd dropped an even bigger piece of fudge into hers---and he stifled a sigh as he lifted the concoction to his lips.

'_Oh, ugh . . . nasty, nasty bad!_' he sputtered as he choked the coffee down.

"Are you feeling all right?" Belle asked, frowning slightly as she stared at him over the plastic lid on her coffee cup.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She shrugged. "You did have an awful lot to drink last night."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, that. Yeah, well . . ."

'_She thinks you were drunk, you know_.'

'_Of course she does_,' he agreed.

'_You going to tell her you weren't?_'

'_Of course I'm not_.'

His youkai sighed. '_That was low; telling her how you feel when she thought you were drunk_.'

'_And you think she'd have believed me otherwise?_'

'_Not a chance_.'

Kichiro sighed, too. '_Exactly_.'

"Can we ride the log flume next?" Belle asked as Kichiro's stomach lurched unpleasantly. The Coffee Revolt had begun.

"Log flume?" he repeated since the roller coaster they'd ridden upon arrival had very nearly had him shredding something. This 'flume' sounded dubious at best, in his opinion.

"Yeah! There's like a huge drop down---almost straight down, anyway---right into the water . . . The first time I rode it, I swore I was going to throw up! It was great!"

He snorted. "I don't think that the words 'throw up' and 'great' should ever be used to describe something, Belle-chan."

She took his mercifully empty cup and tossed it in the trash can. "Oh, you'll love it, I promise! Come on!"

That said, she grabbed his hand and dragged him to his feet and out of the tiny fudge shop back into the main plaza in the middle of the amusement park. Funtown, they called it. Kichiro had to wonder just whose idea of fun it was, anyway. He sighed as Belle tugged on his hand to hurry him along. "_That's_ the log flume?" he growled as he gaped at the twisting and turning tract of glorified PVC piping that was the gist of the ride she expected him to climb into willingly.

"Yes, it's the newest one: Thunder Road. They surpassed the older one with it, too, and Thunder Falls used to be the tallest log flume in New England."

Kichiro shook his head. He could feel the bile rising in his throat, could feel his stomach turning uncomfortably. Yeah, this wasn't one of Belle's better ideas . . . He opened his mouth to tell her that there was no way in hell he was getting on that. Her smile stopped him. She looked carefree, happy, and that he'd had something to do with that smile being there . . .

Kichiro closed his mouth on his misgivings and stepped into the meandering line of people willing to subject themselves to death by log flume.

"Have I told you that I'm really having a great time?" Belle asked quietly, her smile fading but the sparkle in her eyes growing brighter.

"Not sure . . . you might have since you haven't shut up since we left the house."

She wrinkled her nose but laughed. "Well, I am, Dr. Grumpypants. Thanks for bringing me."

"As if I had a choice," he retorted in a tone that lacked any real irritation. "You dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn . . . and you could have made my . . . pants . . . really happy last night . . ."

Her eyebrows arched as a slight blush filtered into her cheeks. "So you'd have been Dr. Happypants today? I think not. Anyway, it wasn't the crack of dawn . . . Dawn's crack had come and gone well before I woke you up."

"There's a law against waking people up before ten in the morning, isn't there?"

"Nope."

Kichiro sighed. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

Belle reached out to tug lightly on Kichiro's braid. "You really are bad, aren't you?"

"Who? Me?" He shrugged and grinned. "Maybe . . . just a little . . ."

She shook her head but giggled. "Just a little?" she repeated. "Ri-i-ight."

"I could be good," he told her, "but good's overrated . . . I'd much rather be good at being . . . bad . . . Besides, my sister is better at being good than I'll ever be, and you know, if you can't be the best at one thing . . ."

"That's one of the most twisted things I've ever heard," she mused.

"The truth normally is."

She leaned back against the railing and giggled suddenly. Kichiro cocked his head to the side. . "Something funny?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "I really thought I'd have a horrible time today," she admitted.

"Why?"

Belle smiled almost apologetically. "Because . . . I thought that you'd end up being a jerk and ruin it. Talk about misjudging people. I'm really sorry for that."

Kichiro let out a deep breath and helped Belle climb into the log-shaped ride car, carefully fastening her seatbelt and making sure she was safe in the kami-forsaken contraption. "It's still early," he told her. "I could still be an ass, if you want."

She laughed and quickly leaned over to kiss his cheek. "That's okay. I rather like you this way."

"Yeah?" he asked, trying not to blush from the unexpected contact.

She smiled. "Yeah."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle took the caramel apples from the vendor and smiled before turning around and offering one out to Kichiro. He frowned at the caramel covered apple dipped in chocolate and chopped nuts and slowly shook his head. "Belle . . ." 

Biting into her apple, a string of caramel trailed between her mouth and the confection as a few bits of the chocolate shell and some of the nuts fell to the ground. She giggled when the candy thread snapped and stuck to her chin. He rolled his eyes but took the apple she was still holding out to him. "Innit good?" she asked around the food in her mouth, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

He took a bite of his apple and stopped for a moment before chewing. Belle swallowed and tipped her head to the side, staring at the doctor as her amusement died away. "You don't like it, do you?"

He blinked and shrugged, chewing fast and swallowing before stuffing another bite of the apple in his mouth. "It's different," he remarked. "It's . . . fine."

"You don't have to eat it if you don't want to," she told him. "Are you . . . are you having fun?"

Kichiro swallowed again and flicked his ears. The purple was finally off the appendages, probably from his transformation the night before. His hair was silver again without a trace of the Kool Aid dye, and while he hadn't remarked on it, she had a feeling that he was quite relieved. "Sure," he said. "I am. This is great. Are you . . . having a good time?"

Belle smiled. "Yeah, I am."

He frowned at the apple and bit into it again.

"You want to ride the Ferris wheel?"

Kichiro grimaced as he choked down the bite of apple and tossed the rest of it into a nearby trash can before glaring at his sticky hands with unmasked disgust. "Yeah, sure, whatever you want," he said, absently lifting his gaze before striding over to a water fountain to rinse his hands. He shook his hands and looked around as though he were trying to find something to dry his hands on.

Belle dropped her apple core into the receptacle and dug in her fanny pack for her handkerchief. "Let me," she told him, taking his hands and dabbing them with the dry cloth. "There," she said, letting go of his hands and gazing up at him. He had a bit of caramel still stuck to his lip. Belle smiled and dampened the edge of the kerchief before grasping his chin in one hand and dabbing his lips with the cloth.

"What? You think I'm a pup?" he grumbled but let her wipe his mouth.

She giggled. "No, but you can't see your face, can you? I was just trying to help."

"I can think of some things I'd rather you do to help," he commented, hands resting lightly on her hips. Belle felt a slight flush stain her skin as she lowered the cloth and twisted it around her fingers.

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking about kissing you."

"W-why would you do that?"

He shrugged. "To see if you blush some more."

"This isn't really the place for that, is it?" she asked as a tiny smile turned up the corners of her lips.

"Haven't you ever been kissed in public, princess?"

"Yes, but---"

"But what?"

She struggled to keep her eyes open as he leaned in closer; his lips hovering much too close for her comfort. "But you don't like me, and I . . . can't . . . stand . . . you . . ."

His lips covered hers as her protests died away, lost in the haze of his kiss. Soft, gentle, he slipped his arms around her, and Belle sighed. His strength exuded in a quiet confidence, surrounded her like a protective barrier, sheltering her from anything that could possibly harm her. Lips dancing, fluttering, brushing over hers with a warmth, a tenderness that melted her defenses, Kichiro didn't try to deepen the kiss. She dropped the kerchief as she lifted her hands to stroke his cheeks, as her knees gave way. He caught her, held her, steadied her.

The breeze off the ocean rippled over her, the salty brine mingling with the clean scent of him. He could befuddle her senses; overwhelm her completely until all she could think about was the beat of his heart, the touch of his lips, the feel of his arms encircling her. It felt right---almost too right---and yet it didn't frighten her at all . . .

"Damn," he muttered, breaking the kiss but not letting her go. "This isn't really the place for that, I suppose."

Belle laughed weakly, resting her head on his shoulder for a moment, long enough to summon up what was left of her will. She straightened up and giggled as Kichiro retrieved her kerchief and handed it back. "Thank you."

He shook his head as he shifted his gaze over the expanse of the amusement park. "Okay, what's next?"

Belle grabbed his hand and started away. "The haunted house," she stated. "I haven't been in one of those in forever!"

"Does it move fast?"

"No."

"Spin in contiguous circles?"

"Nope."

"Turn upside down?"

"Uh-uh."

"Floor drop out of it?"

"No."

He sighed. "Good."

She laughed and tugged him forward to the waiting ride car.

"There aren't seat belts in this one," he remarked with a scowl as he settled in beside Belle.

"I told you; this is a tame ride."

"Then what's the point? You struck me as a thrill-seeking kind of girl. Why are we on a boring ride like this?"

She wrinkled her nose and shrugged her shoulders when he draped an arm around her. He chuckled and shifted his arm higher though he didn't move away. "It's not boring! It's supposed to scare you."

Kichiro rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. I've had scarier women walk into the office than what they've got in here."

"Oh, that was cold, Dr. Crankypants, really cold."

The car jerked forward, and Belle laughed softly as they moved off into the darkened tunnel. "Sewer pipe is always frightening," he told her.

Belle slapped her hand against his chest and shushed him. "You're ruining the mood."

"What mood?"

"The creepy mood. Now be quiet."

"Cheesy music and a bumpy ride car? That's not mood! That's---"

Her little scream cut him off as a fake skeleton dropped down in the tunnel ahead of them, rubbery looking bones dancing a jig in the eerie greenish light. It didn't scare her, but it did surprise her. Kichiro chuckled. "Freak out much, princess?"

"Quiet, I'm telling you! This is fun!"

He shook his head. "You need to have your idea of fun re-evaluated. I can think of lots of stuff that's more fun than this . . ."

Belle quickly turned, burying her face against his shoulder when a huge fake rat flew past their faces. She giggled and sat up again. Kichiro lifted his eyebrows as he pondered that. '_Okay, so maybe there is something to be said for this ride_ . . .'

Seconds later, Belle jumped again, this time nearly landing in his lap.

'_Yeah, this is kind of nice _. . .'

"What's the matter, Belle-chan?" he asked, rubbing her shoulder as he leaned in closer.

She gasped then laughed when something else startled her. He pushed her hair back away from her neck and nuzzled her. Belle shivered. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to distract you so you don't get startled again. Is it working?" he drawled, grazing his lips over her skin.

"Dr. Izayoi---"

"Want me to stop?"

She sucked in her breath. "Y-y-yes . . ."

"Beg me."

"I don't think---"

He cut her off with a little nip on her collarbone. "Beg me to stop, and I . . . _might_."

"I don't beg," she argued softly.

"Then I'm not stopping," he told her as he wrapped his arm around her, resting it on her hip and trailing his fingers down to the hem of her skirt before pushing the thin fabric up.

Her breath cut off sharply, the shallow puffs of air hitting his forehead, stirring his bangs. She had her eyes closed, and her head dropped back against the vinyl seat as she caught his wrist to stay his hand. "You've got to stop."

"You know how to stop me." His ears flicked against her cheek. She shuddered.

"You'd s-st-stop if you were nice . . ."

"Yeah, I would," he agreed, shifting his palm so he could caress her naked hip under the skirt, despite the token resistance of her hand on his wrist. He moaned. "Damn it, wench . . . why don't you have fat thighs or something?"

She shook her head, his words barely registering though the dizzying veil he'd created around her. "Fat . . . what?"

He gently squeezed her hip. She whimpered softly as her grip on his wrist slackened. "You're perfect, did you know?"

"Is that . . . bad?"

"Bad? Kami, no . . . Putting me through hell? Fuck, yes."

She tried to laugh. It was choked and strangled, and when she shifted in her seat to press closer to him, he nearly groaned again when her scent enveloped his senses. "Y-you should st-stop."

"Yeah, I should."

"S-someone might see . . . us . . ."

"I suppose they could," he remarked as he slipped his hand around her. She uttered a harsh cry as her body arched toward him. "Damned if I don't like your ass, too," he muttered, squeezing her as she let her head fall against his shoulder.

Belle moaned again, swallowed hard as she forced her eyes to open, to gaze at him in the filmy darkness. "Please . . ." she whispered though she was unsure what she was asking, exactly. Part of her wanted him to go on---a frighteningly large part of her---while the more cautious side of her---the side that was still afraid that he would hurt her . . . the part that was scared of her own feelings---needed him to stop before he destroyed her will completely.

Kichiro sighed and slowly pulled his hand out from under her skirt, tugging the hem down with trembling fingers before he brushed her hair back out of her eyes. "I can wait for you, Belle. Just . . ." he trailed off, gaze roving around the cavern they were passing through. "Just don't make me wait too long."

She giggled unevenly before quickly kissing his cheek and sitting up straight as the car emerged from the darkness back at the station where the ride had started out. "You say that to all your women?"

He stopped abruptly as he started to climb out of the car and slowly turned to look at her, his gaze fierce, penetrating; eyes glowing in the half-light. "Actually, I've never said anything like that in my fucking life."

Belle bit her lip as she let him help her out of the ride car. He was angry, and she knew it. She hadn't meant to upset him, and she held onto his hand before he could stride away. "Do you mean that?"

He sighed, scratching the top of his head as he tried to reign in his irritation. "Yeah, I do."

She felt like the ground had just dropped out from under her, and she could feel the heat seeping into her cheeks as she followed him toward the exit. Why did his claim thrill her?

'_Don't answer that, Belle_.'

She stared at his back as he kept walking. Yeah . . . maybe she was better off not analyzing that at all . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_Okay, we give . . . no more, Kich . . . We can't take any more of her 'treats'_.' 

Kichiro swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he hurried to drain a bottle of water to chase the syrupy nastiness that was left behind after Belle had shoved a huge hunk of what she called 'cotton candy' into his mouth. She was standing at the railing, staring out over the ocean as her ponytail flipped casually in the breeze.

He hadn't been able to stay angry with her. He hadn't wanted to, anyway. She was entirely too engaging, too happy for him to remain irritated, and it seemed like she was bent on making him smile after they left the haunted house. The afternoon sunshine played off her hair, highlighting the bronze locks in streaks of gold and burnished browns . . . the same color as wheat in the fall, just before the harvest.

"You're not looking so good," Belle remarked as she cocked her head to the side and frowned at him, blue eyes serious as light reflecting off the ocean played in their depths. Cheeks pinked from her happiness, gaze bright and open as her dusty pink lips parted slightly as tendrils of her hair lifted and flowed with the gentle breeze, she was a vision he knew he'd never, ever forget. "Are you all right?"

He really wanted to lie to her because she appeared to be having the time of her life. She didn't seem to understand that he wasn't quite as enamored of her snacks and rides as she was, but damned if he wanted to tell her that. For the first time, he felt as though he might really be making progress with her. Thing was, if he kept eating everything she shoved at him, he really would be sick . . . "That stuff . . . isn't for me," he said casually, waving his hand at the huge bag of fluffy, deceptively-harmless looking candy.

Belle winced. "I'm sorry. I just thought . . . I thought you'd like it since I do."

His ears flattened momentarily at the crestfallen expression on her face. "No, Belle, it's fine. I just . . . I'm not fond of all that sugar. That's all."

"You should have told me," she said, shaking her head as she let her gaze fall away.

"It's fine. I'm tough. At least I tried it all, right?"

She grinned. "You're right."

"Anything else you want to drag me on?" he asked lightly, tugging her ponytail.

She smiled and quickly jerked her head from side to side to dislodge his hand. "Well, there is one ride," she said then shrugged. "But I don't usually ride it without Daddy."

"Well, I'm not your daddy, but if it makes you happy . . ."

Belle shook her head and turned toward him, leaning her forearm casually on the railing. "It's not that . . . It's just something I always do with Daddy."

He sighed. "I can understand that. If you don't want to ride it, then I won't make you."

"Thing is," she went on, her eyebrows drawing together in a thoughtful scowl. Kichiro reached out to gently ease away the creases that had formed with the expression on her face. "Thing is, I normally don't even think twice about it, when he's not here. It's just something I don't do without him, you know?"

He nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he leaned back against the rail. "So what's the problem?"

"Not a problem," she explained. "It's just . . . I think . . . I think I'd like to ride it with you . . ."

He stopped and shot her a questioning glance. "Really?"

Belle nodded. "Unless you don't want to."

Kichiro smiled. "I could do that. What ride?"

Belle pointed at the giant double-decker carousel in the middle of the plaza.

'_That doesn't look too bad_,' his youkai remarked.

'_Not really_ . . .'

She took his hand and led him toward the carousel. They didn't have to wait long, and Belle started to climb up onto one of the horses. Kichiro grasped her waist and lifted her up. She smiled at him in thanks. "Are you going to ride one?" she asked, nodding at the empty horse beside her.

"I'll stand," he told her.

She giggled. "Daddy always does, too."

The ride jerked into motion. The horses two rows of horses moved in a wave, sinking and rising in such a way that Kichiro had to look away, only to notice the bright poles they were fixed to were revolving, too, sending the spiral of color on each one into dizzying action, as well. Brightly colored festive ribbons rippled in the fabricated wind as the floor rose and fell at regular intervals. Everywhere he looked, the damn thing was moving, and that was enough to bring the bile rising in his throat again.

"Dr. Izayoi?" Belle said sharply, her voice seeming distant and muffled even though she was right beside him. "Are you okay?"

He managed a vague nod before clamping his mouth closed, grinding his teeth together so hard that his jaw ached.

'_Damn it, no_,' he growled at himself, '_you've been on that fucking roller coaster, the log flume from hell, something she called a tilt-a-whirl . . . and every other kami-forsaken ride in this park. You're not getting sick on a damn carousel . . . You're _not!'

Belle hollered something, and moments later the ride stopped. She slid off the horse and grabbed Kichiro's hand, hurrying toward the ride exit. "You're not going to pass out, are you?"

He shot her a dark look and shook his head.

The anxious expression on her face didn't wane as he jerked his hand out of hers and strode purposefully toward the bathroom building.

Belle sank down on a wooden slat bench and sighed. '_Okay, so coming here was a bad idea . . . He's not had a good time today, at all_ . . .'

'_You should have realized sooner, that he wasn't having fun_,' her youkai grumbled.

Belle grimaced. '_I didn't know he was sick_,' she countered. '_Why would he come here if he knew he wouldn't like it?_'

'_Why, indeed? Because you asked him to, Belle. Think about it_.'

She shook her head and bit her lip as she waited for him to emerge from the bathroom. She owed him, didn't she? She owed him, big.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Oh, look! Deer! And they have a baby!" Belle chattered as Kichiro gripped the door of the rental car and grimaced. 

"Oi, wench! Eyes on the road, please," he growled.

Belle made a face and glanced back at the road, jerking on the steering wheel to get the vehicle back into the driving lane. "Sorry! I get distracted . . ."

He shook his head. "I guess. I thought you said you could drive."

She snorted. "I can," she assured him.

"Yes, well, just do it _on_ the road, okay?"

"I thought you said you were going to take a nap on the way home," she reminded him.

"Yeah, and I would have, if you'd learn to keep the car where it's supposed to be."

She sighed and reached over to change the radio station. Flipping through the static-y channels, she was more absorbed with the mission of finding a decent station than she was in driving.

"Belle!" he barked, reaching over to grab the wheel just before an oncoming truck blasted it's horn as the car swerved out of the truck's lane. "Pull over, princess," he snapped. "I'd like to get home in one piece, and---_oh, balls_."

She winced as the flashing blue and red lights appeared in the rear view mirror. "I'm supposed to pull over, right?"

He sighed, covering his eyes with a weary hand. "That'd be best, yes."

Belle pulled over and stopped the car, rolling down her window as she fidgeted nervously. The police officer got out of the patrol car and slowly approached. "All right, I hope you have a good explanation for that careless bit of driving back there," he said as he bent down, shining his flashlight into the car. Kichiro winced and raised his hand to shield his eyes. He couldn't see Belle's face.

"We're going home," Belle explained in a high-pitched, nervous tone. "We went to Funtown, and he got sick, so I was driving."

The officer wasn't impressed with her story. "You have anything to drink tonight, young lady?"

Belle shook her head. "No, sir. I don't drink. I saw a baby deer and its family. It was really cute."

Kichiro stifled a groan.

The officer sighed. "License, registration, and proof of insurance, please."

Belle twined her fingers together and winced. "Well, see . . . We have the registration and proof of insurance."

The officer paused for a moment, his expression shifting into one of shock. "And the license?"

"Yeah, that . . . Um . . . I don't have one of those."

The groan Kichiro had stifled seeped out.

"Is that a problem?" she asked.

"Belle! What do you mean, you don't have a license?" Kichiro demanded.

She finally looked at him. "I tried to tell you---"

"When?"

"Just before you threw the keys at me."

He rolled his eyes. "I asked if---"

"---If I could drive, and I can."

"_Highly_ debatable."

She wrinkled her nose. "And when I tried to tell you that I could drive but don't have a license, you threw the keys at me and said you needed a nap."

"Which I never got, thanks to your so-called driving."

"Don't blame me when you could have waited for me to explain! I tried to tell you, and---"

The officer stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled to gain their attention. When the two fell silent---Belle was rubbing her ear---the policeman just shook his head and sighed. "All right, sir . . . do _you_ have a license?"

Kichiro snorted. "Yes."

"All right, then. You promise to drive the rest of the way home, and I'll let you go . . . this time."

Belle blinked then smiled. The officer seemed startled but he finally smiled, too. "Thank you, sir!"

He chuckled. "It's all right, Miss. Next time, no driving till you've gotten your license."

"Okay," she agreed as the officer tapped the car door and straightened up.

"What the . . .? Oh, for the love of kami," Kichiro grumbled. "He let you off!"

Belle shot him a defensive glance. "I didn't do anything, so you can't say I did . . ."

Kichiro sighed and opened his door. The officer pulled away and waved at Belle as he passed. Belle waved back. "Yeah, you don't _have_ to do anything, wench. Just bat those blue eyes at a man, and they're putty in your hands! Remind me not to fall under your spell, will you?"

She shook her head at him but let him help her out of the car. "I don't think you'd ever fall under my spell," she said. "Even if you did, you'd never admit it."

He watched her hurry around the car and climb into the passenger seat before he got in, too. The small plastic square jabbed him through his shirt pocket, and he fished out the case and tossed it into Belle's lap before starting the car and pulling back onto the road again.

"What's this?" Belle asked, turning the case over in her hands.

He shrugged, glower resurfacing as he kept himself from looking at her. "It's your prize, such as it is. Consolation prize. Sorry I couldn't win you anything."

At least in the dim light of the dashboard lamps, she wouldn't be able to discern his blush.

After he'd puked his guts out in the bathroom, Belle had cautiously asked if he wanted to go play around in the Midway where games and such were available to play for cheesy prizes. She'd mentioned that other guys had won her silly stuff in the past, and Kichiro decided he'd win her something, too. He hadn't realized that the silly games took a little more finesse than he had, and after much too long a time spent trying in vain to win something, Belle had tugged his arm, smiled at him, and told him that she didn't really like the prizes, anyway.

So he'd done the only thing he could think of. He'd left her sitting on a bench after giving her solemn vow that she would not move till he came back and that she wouldn't speak to a single soul, either. The result of his effort was in her hands now.

"It's a mini-CD," she said with a confused shake of her head. "What's on it?"

He shrugged again. "I couldn't win you a prize," he told her. "It's nothing . . . you can just . . . throw it away, if you want."

Belle opened the case and carefully pulled the tiny disc from the sleeve. "Don't be silly. Of course I'll keep it."

"What are you doing?" he growled as she started to slip it into the CD player. "You can't listen to it now."

"Why not? It's mine, isn't it?"

"If you try again, I'll break the damn thing," he grumbled then shook his head. "Just give it. It was a stupid idea."

"No," she said, slipping the disc back into the sleeve and holding it out of his reach. "It's mine. You gave it to me. You can't have it back."

He sighed. "Just . . . don't listen to it around me, okay? I swear I'll break it if you do."

"Okay," she agreed. "Dr. Izayoi?"

He shot her a dark look, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "You could call me by name, you know."

Belle nodded. "I know."

"You're still not going to do it, are you?"

She shrugged. "Thanks."

"What for?"

"I . . . I had a really good time today, and I . . . I'm sorry you didn't."

Kichiro finally smiled. "It wasn't so bad."

Belle shook her head. "You puked your guts out, and that was my fault . . ."

"It was mine," he told her sternly. "I didn't tell you that all that food was making me sick."

"Still," she argued, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, "I wish you would have told me. I didn't want you to be so uncomfortable."

"Don't worry about it, princess. I'm tougher than you seem to think."

"Mmm."

She fell silent. When he finally dared a glance at her, she was fast asleep.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Poor Dr. Grumpypants _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	42. Confessions: Part I

**_Chapter 42_**

**_Confessions: Part I

* * *

_**

Gin rubbed her throbbing temple as Cain closed the front door behind him. He'd done it quietly, but that didn't keep the sound of the lock clicking into place from making her wince and grit her teeth. '_I'm never touching liquor again_,' she vowed. '_Never, ever_, ever . . .'

It should have been enough that her head thumped to a rhythm that was captured in her head. It should have been enough that her mouth tasted like something furry had camped out in there, leaving behind a fuzzy feeling that even vigorous brushing hadn't been able to rid her of. It should have been enough that she couldn't remember much of anything from the night before---at least after she'd thrown up. Nope, and to add to all that, Cain had been acting quiet and sort of distant all morning, and Gin couldn't figure out why.

He'd left to see if he could find her keys with the parting remark that she ought to see if Belle had left anything behind that she could borrow since the exterminator should be coming by to check her apartment, and since she wouldn't want to greet the man in Cain's shirt, now would she?

Gin sighed and stumbled off toward Belle's bedroom, groaning softly as the door squeaked when she pushed it open. Glancing in the full-length mirror mounted on the wall beside the door, Gin made a face. Dark circles under her lackluster eyes, hair ratty and tangled, skin sallow and dull . . . Yeah, she'd seen better days, hadn't she? And just why was her nose all red?

Pushing open the heavy closet door, Gin scowled at the few dresses Belle had left behind. None of them looked like something she'd wear, and even then, they all seemed like they'd be a little too big. Belle was at least half a foot taller than her or better, and the girl in question didn't mind wearing low-cut dresses---the kind Gin wouldn't ever have the guts to wear at all . . .

The best she'd be able to do would be to wear one of Belle's dresses backward so that certain parts of her were decently covered. '_That'd look . . . well_ . . . stupid,' she decided with a thorough sigh as her ears flattened against her head.

Grimacing as she slammed the closet closed, Gin rubbed her temple with one hand and jumped as something thudded on the floor inside. '_Don't let whatever it was be broken,_' she thought as she carefully pulled the door open again. '_That'd be just my luck, now wouldn't it?_'

She didn't see anything right away. She was about to close the door again when she noticed the grayish cardboard on the floor. Stooping down to pick it up, she turned it over in her hands, absently running her fingers over the tiny seashells and elbow macaroni that were carefully glued all around the edges. She'd done something similar in primary school. Belle had obviously made this one.

It held a picture.

Gin held it up, frowning as she stared at the image of the smiling woman beside Cain. Arms wrapped around one another while the woman's smile beamed back at her, they looked . . . happy . . . He was smiling, too, but he wasn't looking at the camera. His eyes were fixed on the woman's face; his expression one that Gin had never seen on him before, and she winced.

He was staring at the woman with the same sort of expression she'd seen on her father's face whenever he gazed at Kagome; at those times when InuYasha thought no one else could see him . . .

'_It's . . . her . . . isn't it? Belle's mother . . . Cain's wife . . . Isabelle_ . . .'

The proof was there in her hands, staring back at her with a secretive, almost mocking smile. Gin slipped the picture out of the frame to read Cain's scrawl on the back. '_Belle, 6.28.2010_.'

Gin stood up slowly, carefully pushing the photo back into the silly little frame that she didn't doubt Belle had made for her mother's picture. Her chest hurt, her eyes burned, and yet she sank down on the edge of Belle's bed, unable to look away from the woman in the picture.

She really was beautiful---stunning, actually. Tall enough that she reached Cain's chin in the flat shoes she wore and possessing the willowy build of a classical dancer, Isabelle's pose exuded a quiet grace, a certain sophistication that Gin would never ever really achieve. Golden hair drawn back in a softly curling ponytail, her light blue eyes sparkled and shone in the bright daylight where she stood beside Cain on the sandy beach against a background of harsh rocks and rippling water. The gauzy white dress seemed to cling to Isabelle's frame, hindered only by Cain's arms, wrapped loosely around her waist, resting on her left hip. Her slender arms wrapped over his in what seemed to Gin to be a possessive gesture. Why did it seem like her smile was growing wider as she stared out of the image back at Gin?

'_How could he have not loved her? I didn't even know her, and I can see it . . . Kami, she's . . . she's like a fairy princess, isn't she? No wonder_ . . .'

And Cain . . .

Still rumpled, still wearing the low ponytail in his hair . . . but the shadows she knew that lingered in his gaze weren't there back then. Running a delicate claw over the familiar lines of his face, Gin bit her lip, blinked back a tear, and she couldn't help feeling just a little foolish. It had become too easy for her to forget that Cain had obligations that he held above anything else. This woman had a hold that Gin didn't really understand, but Cain did, and Cain . . .

She really was stupid, wasn't she? She was a stupid little girl who had conveniently forgotten that some promises were impossible to break; that some vows could not be undone. Isabelle was his mate, and Gin . . . Gin had forgotten that, hadn't she?

Mates were forever, or so she'd been told. Once a youkai or hanyou took a mate then nothing mattered: time, space; centuries or continents . . . and separation from one's mate normally always ended in the death of the one left behind. Sure there were a few notable exceptions. Her grandfather had been one. Still remembering how close Toga had come to dying because he'd been separated from Sierra . . . Was Cain like her grandfather? Strong enough to overcome the will to give up after losing his mate . . . Or was he like Toga, and was obligation alone forcing him to survive, and if that were the case, just where did that leave her?

"_Gin's nothing to me_---nothing."

It was true; absolutely true. Maybe he hadn't meant for her to hear him say it, but that didn't remove the sting of his words, and it didn't make them any less truthful. Despite the things that he never told her, the things that she didn't know, she did know one thing: Cain never lied to her, and that meant that what he'd said to Pierre . . . He really had meant it.

A vague image of the night before flashed through her mind, and Gin winced.

"_It's because of Isabelle, right? Because I'm not her?_"

Cain's anger---the pain in his eyes . . . of course he didn't think she was like Isabelle. Forcing herself to stare at the picture, Gin shook her head and sighed. '_I'm not like her. I'll never _be_ like her. He knows that, too, doesn't he? I'll never be graceful or elegant; poised or beautiful . . . nothing Isabelle was. I'm just Gin . . . stupid little Gin, but I thought---hoped _. . .'

"You're in luck, Gin. Look what I . . . found . . ." Cain strode into the room with her shoe in one hand and her key-ring spinning around the index finger of his other hand. He stopped abruptly, his smile fading as he caught sight of Gin's obvious upset. "Hey . . . what's wrong, baby girl?"

"Wha . . .? Oh, nothing," Gin said, making herself smile but wincing when he scowled. "It's nothing . . . I . . . I knocked this off Bellaniece's shelf . . . I wasn't being nosy, I promise . . . I wasn't trying to be, anyway. I'm sorry . . ."

He stared at her for another long moment before he let his gaze shift to the picture frame she held out. A fleeting glimpse of pain shot through his features before he dropped the shoe on the floor and rubbed his hand over his face as though he were really exhausted. "Oh . . . Gin---"

Gin barked out a terse laugh; dry and devoid of humor as she shook her head and cut him off. "She was something, wasn't she? I mean, I know everyone said she was beautiful, but . . . she could have been a model or something."

He sighed. "She could have, I guess. Listen---"

"She looked like a dancer. Bellaniece looks just like her, except she's got your coloring . . . Isabelle was kind of like a fairy princess. That's what she reminded me of: a fairy princess . . ."

He reached out to pull her close as he sank down on the bed beside her. Gin shot to her feet. "Gin . . ."

"This shouldn't be in the closet. She was Bellaniece's mama, right? She shouldn't . . ." Eyes darting around almost wildly, she glanced at the empty nightstand and nodded. "There's a good place for it," she decided, stepping over and propping the picture up against the lamp. "I'm going to go. I need to change, and the exterminator will be here soon, right?" She pulled the keys out of his hand and held them up. "I'll see you later."

"Gin, wait," he said, standing up and reaching out to catch her hand.

She forced another smile, a terse laugh. "Gotta go, Zelig-sensei. Time's a-wastin'."

He sighed. "All right . . . You'll come back in a little bit?"

"Uh . . . yeah . . . sure."

He let go of her hand and sat back down on the edge of the bed. Gin hurried out of the room before he could try to stop her again.

She just had to get out of there. The idea of sitting there, of hearing him tell her how cute he thought she was and knowing that in his heart she'd never, ever compare to Isabelle . . . She couldn't do it; at least not now.

With a low groan, Gin stopped. She'd forgotten her shoes. The one was still by the door, but the other one . . .

Gin sighed and turned around to get her other shoe. She stopped in the shadows of the hallway, a thousand painful stabs erupting in her chest as she watched in silence. Cain still sat on his daughter's bed with the picture in his hands and a sad little scowl on his face. He was staring at the old photograph as though he'd never seen it before. Gin closed her eyes, leaned against the doorframe, unable to look away as he slowly ran his claw along the smooth surface.

She forced herself to move then. Stumbling back down the hallway and through the living room, heading for the front door---for the sanctity of her apartment before she did something she'd regret, like cry.

'_It's one thing_,' she figured, '_to know that Isabelle was probably drop-dead gorgeous. It was another thing, entirely, to find out it really was true_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle bit her lip as she slipped the mini-CD into the stereo and turned the volume down low. Kichiro was lying down, not that she blamed him. She had worried that he would end up being sick again, but he hadn't been. She waited for the music to start and frowned. She'd heard the song before, earlier at Funtown when Kichiro had made her sit down and left to go do . . .whatever it was he went to do . . . 

_She's Got a Way_ by Billy Joel

'_He . . . He recorded that . . .? For me?_'

Belle hurriedly wiped away the tear that had slipped down her cheek as she listened to the song. '_She's Got A Way_,' by Billy Joel. Old song, sure, but the words . . . She shook her head. '_Is that . . . is that how he feels?_'

He could sing. She remembered sitting on the bench near the cheesy little recording studio off the plaza at the park, hearing this person singing this song . . . Sure they said that they didn't play the songs out loud, but Belle had been to the park too often to not know that they lied every time. She'd thought at the time that whoever was singing really was good. It was him?

"_It's your prize, such as it is. Consolation prize. Sorry I couldn't win you anything_."

Belle uttered a soft, "Oh . . ." and slowly shook her head. Surely he didn't think . . .? Why would he ever think that this---what he'd done---was somehow inadequate?

She turned around and ran toward the stairs. Peeking into his room, she frowned at the sleeping hanyou and wondered how irritated he'd be if she woke him up. That would be selfish, wouldn't it? She'd known he had a terrible time at the amusement park. She wished he would have said something sooner. She didn't really understand why he hadn't told her. He certainly didn't make any bones about telling her when anything else bothered him, did he?

The steady rise and fall of his chest made Belle smile as she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. The dim light from the hallway filtered into the room. He'd taken off his shirt and left the button of his trousers unfastened. Stretched out on his back with his right arm bent over his head, his left arm was tossed casually over his stomach, pinning down the thick braid of his hair, he looked completely relaxed, and Belle bit her lip as she sighed. He really was remarkable . . .

As much as she wanted to ask him why he thought that the song he'd recorded for her wasn't that important, she didn't have the heart to wake him, either.

Belle lingered another moment before slipping out of the quiet room and down the hall.

She wasn't sure why she headed straight for her closet. Inspired by the strangely introspective mood left in the wake of Kichiro's song, she pulled the huge white leather-bound photo album off the top shelf and stared at the cover, tracing over the letters in gold gilt paint: '_Bellaniece Zelig_'. She smiled sadly. She'd had the album ever since she could remember. Cain had made it for her, and the first few pages were covered with newspaper clippings and old, faded photographs; images of the mother that Belle didn't know. Strange how Bellelooked so much like he;Isabelle. Stranger still to know that Isabelle still had a very real hold over Bellaniece's father---a hold stronger than bands of iron . . . a hold stronger than the love of a father for his daughter . . .

She shivered in the stillness of the lonely mansion, wondered fleetingly what her father was doing, half a world away. Maybe he missed her . . . Was he thinking about her? All Belle's hopes were riding on the shoulders of a girl who was oblivious to the truth of the situation. Remembering the way Cain had smiled at Gin; the gentle teasing that was so foreign to him . . . '_Come on, Gin . . . I'm counting on you . . . Make him want to live again. Make him . . . make him want to stay_ . . .'

The wash of loneliness was a bitter thing. Smacking into Belle with a force that made her slump against the open closet door as she closed her eyes and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to keep herself from screaming, it took a minute for her to regain her composure. She didn't want to be alone. She'd _never_ wanted to be alone . . .

Clutching the photo album to her chest, Belle hurried out of her room and back down the hall. Kichiro hadn't moved in her absence. Careful not to make any noise, she tiptoed over to sit on the floor beside the bed in the rectangle of light that cascaded through the opened doorway. The sound of his breathing filled her ears, chased away the sense of loneliness that she hated. '_How did he do that?_' she wondered as she set the book aside and knelt beside the bed, hesitantly reaching out to touch his bangs, to trace the outline of his eyebrows in the darkness. '_How could he make me feel as though I'll never have to be alone again when he isn't doing a thing? He's just sleeping . . .?_'

"Lemme guess: you bumped your head on one of the rides, and you can't find your own room?"

Belle gasped softly, jerking her hand away from him and sitting back on her heels as Kichiro rolled toward her and groggily opened his eyes. "I . . . no, of course . . . not . . ."

He started to chuckle but was thwarted by a wide yawn. "So you came in here willingly? Didn't get enough of The Kich earlier?"

She felt her cheeks warm, but stubbornly shook her head. "Don't be silly. I was just checking on you; that's all."

"Tell that to the reporters, Belle-chan. I know why you're really here."

He was teasing her. She could sense the smile in his tone despite the blank expression on his face. "And why would that be, Dr. Izayoi?"

"If you want to crawl into bed with me, you don't have to ask, princess. My bed is your bed . . . Just don't think you'll be sleeping because you won't."

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked, ignoring his off-color commentary.

"A little," he told her. "You could come here and check for yourself."

"Check what?"

He snorted. "How I feel, wench. Pay attention, will you?"

"I'm starting to not feel so bad about you throwing up," she grumbled.

"Oh, that . . . I didn't throw up," he assured her. "I simply had to purge the toxic sugars out of my system."

Belle rolled her eyes but smiled. "If you're feeling better, are you hungry? I could make food for you . . . a sandwich or something . . ."

His ears flattened as he shook his head to clear the sleepy fuzziness from his mind. "Ugh, sandwich? No thanks."

"You love my peanut butter sandwiches!" she informed him. "You ate the whole plate of them, remember?"

He winced and sat up, reaching over to turn on the lamp before groaning and quickly shielding his eyes from the invasive artificial light. "Yeah, that . . . I . . . don't really . . . like those . . . at all."

She shook her head as she scowled at the taupe linen bedspread. "But you ate them all . . . why would you do that if you didn't like them?"

He sighed. "Belle . . . it's simple: you smiled at me, so I ate them, just like today. You smiled at me, and I ate everything you shoved at me."

"So you ate all that stuff because . . . you felt sorry for me?"

"No. I don't feel sorry for you, princess. I feel sorry for my stomach, but never for you."

"You should have told me," she grumbled. "You should have said you didn't like it. I wouldn't have been mad or anything . . ." She trailed off, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Kichiro intercepted the look and sighed again. "Does that mean you puked up all the sandwiches, too?"

He rolled his eyes. "No . . . if you'd force-fed me more of the marshmallow ones though, I might have . . . That stuff is just nasty." To emphasize his point, he affected a full-body shudder, complete with exaggerated grimace full of revulsion.

Belle almost laughed. "Do me a favor. Tell me you don't like something next time, okay?"

Scooting down so he could stretch out again, Kichiro stuck his hands behind his neck and lifted his eyebrows. "Yeah, yeah . . . It's fine, Belle. I have to ask, though . . . you eat that crap all the time, right? How the hell do you look like you do if you eat shit like that?"

"I'm hanyou, remember?"

He shrugged. "Oh, right . . . the one hanyou on earth who can't fight . . ."

"Anyway, I mean it. I'd rather that you tell me you don't like something than to see you make yourself sick."

"All right, I'm sorry," he gave in. "I'll never do it again. Please, please forgive me."

She made a face at his sarcastic remarks. "I'll forgive you," she agreed, "on one condition."

"What's that?" he asked, grabbing a lock of her hair and weaving it around his fingers.

"Tell me why you thought that the song you recorded was a consolation prize?"

He let go of her hair and sighed. "It just was," he growled. "Forget it. It was a dumb idea."

"No, it wasn't. It was---"

"Yeah, I know. It was pathetic, right? Don't worry about it. Just throw it away."

"I didn't say---"

"You didn't have to, princess. My brain was affected by the food---mental food poisoning. Happens all the time."

"Don't---"

"Can we talk about something else? I'm still tired, anyway. Chalk it up to stupidity, and leave it at that, will you?"

Belle bit back the desire to growl at Kichiro and drew a deep breath instead. "If you're finished putting words in my mouth, I'd like to say something without your help."

He refused to look at her, but didn't interrupt. Satisfied that he wouldn't, Belle let out her breath and shook her head. "I loved it." She could feel his gaze shift to her as she scowled at her hands folded in her lap. "It was the nicest thing anyone's ever given me, you know? Thank you."

"The nicest thing? You've gotta be kidding. It was idiotic. It was nothing."

Belle nodded slowly as she started to get up, needing to distance herself from him, from his caustic statements and harsh words.

"Where are you going?"

She stopped when he caught her wrist to keep her from running away. "Sometimes," she told him, fighting to control the tremor in her voice, "you're such a jerk. I thought maybe today . . . but you're still . . . let go!"

"_I'm_ a jerk?" Kichiro sputtered, tightening his grip on her wrist. "What the hell am I supposed to do for you, Belle? I've bent over backward for you; jumped through fucking hoops to make you happy, and you---"

"I didn't ask you to make yourself sick!"

"No, but you asked me to win you a prize on the midway, and damn it, I couldn't even do that!"

Belle shook her head. "I was _joking!_"

"I didn't _know_ that!"

"You said I'm nothing!"

"_What?_"

She scowled at the floor, dashed her free hand across her misting eyes. "You said that your present was nothing, right? Well, you don't give 'nothing' to someone without thinking that someone is less than nothing, too, so yeah, I'll go toss your CD into the box of other stupid trinkets that guys have won for me that I keep in my closet because I just don't care about them."

"Belle, I didn't mean---"

"I don't care what you meant. I thought maybe . . . but I was . . . I should have known."

He let go of her hand and sighed. Belle stumbled toward the door.

"I just . . . felt stupid," he grumbled in a tone that she figured he hadn't thought she'd hear. She stopped and slowly turned around to face him. Ears flattened as he scowled at the ceiling, he didn't seem to notice that she hadn't left him.

"Why? I didn't think it was stupid at all. I thought it was . . . incredible."

"I didn't win it. I didn't earn it. I didn't do a damn thing for it."

"All those prizes are nothing but a stupid way for boys to show off playing another man's rigged games so they can hand the trophy prize to the trophy girlfriend, and then she gets to ooh and ahh over how great he is when he's really nothing at all. What you did for me . . . that was really something, and I'm sorry if you can't see it because . . . Well, I just loved it, so maybe I'm a little stupid, too."

He stared at her for long moments, gaze narrowing as though he were trying to read her mind. He cleared his throat and shrugged, cheeks pinking as he looked toward the window. "You know, Belle . . . I could eat a sandwich now."

Belle shuffled her bare feet and shrugged, wishing he'd look at her again; wishing she could understand the demons that haunted him, too. "Okay."

"Belle?" he called as she started away. She stopped but didn't look back. "I'm . . . I'm glad you had fun today. I did, too."

She did glance at him for that statement, incredulity making her slowly shake her head.

"No, I did," he assured her.

"Thank you for taking me."

He finally smiled. "Don't mention it, wench. Now are you going to feed me or not?"

She giggled and wiggled her fingers before stepping into the hallway, heading for the stairs to find something to feed a picky hanyou like him.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

'_**She's Got a Way**' written and copyrighted to Billy Joel_.**_  
Greatest Hits: Vol. 2_**.

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_She liked it_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	43. Confessions: Part II

**_Chapter 43_**

**_Confessions: Part II

* * *

_**

Gin hurried out of the bathroom, toweling her wet hair as the phone rang again. "Hello?" she answered a little breathlessly as she cinched the belt on her short, pink satin robe a little tighter.

"I was just going to hang up," Kagome said with a little laugh. "I'm glad you're home, though. Did you have a good time last night?"

She winced and brushed aside the guilty feeling over the lie she was about to try to sell her mother. "Oh, the best," she assured Kagome. "It was . . . indescribable, really . . ."

"I'm glad to hear it," Kagome remarked. "Did you get to meet L'amont-san?"

"Uh huh," she answered. At least that part wasn't a lie . . . "He was very kind, and he invited me to lunch next week to discuss art."

"Really? And what did Zelig-san think of that?"

Gin sighed and chewed on her claw. "Why would he care?" she countered. "We're just . . . He's just . . ." She cleared her throat, "My . . . teacher."

"Gin, you sound a little . . . strange. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, of course, Mama. W-why wouldn't I be?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm fine---just fine."

A soft knock on the door made Gin jump. "I have to go, Mama. Someone's here."

"All right. Call me tomorrow."

"Okay," Gin agreed. "Give Papa a kiss for me."

Kagome laughed. "I'll do that."

She dropped the receiver into the recharge stand and ran to the door as the knock sounded again. '_Cain?_' she thought with a marked scowl as she unhooked the chain and twisted the deadbolt lock to open the door. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

Cain stopped with his fist poised in mid-air and stared at her, mouth opening and closing a few times like a fish out of water. "You didn't come back over," he finally blurted, cheeks reddening as he forced himself to look over her head, from one side to the other at the empty hallway---anywhere but directly at her.

Gin nodded, stepping back when he gestured at her apartment to ask himself in. "Yeah . . . I . . . I thought I should take a shower and . . . stuff . . ."

"I see . . . Were you going to come back over?"

She pushed the door closed and wandered past him toward the shelf beside the window. "I thought I'd stay here. The exterminator came, and . . . he didn't find anything."

"Oh, right." He shuffled his feet, jamming his hands into his pockets as he shrugged and directed his scowl around the room. "You seemed upset when you left earlier."

"I wasn't upset," she assured him. He crossed his arms over his chest and leveled the dubious frown at her. She grimaced. "Maybe just a little."

"You going to tell me why?"

". . . No."

He looked peeved at her reluctance to tell him what was bothering her. Gin snatched a seashell off the shelf, turning it over and over in her hands. "Okay, but Gin, I gotta tell you: I sat down with that picture, and I tried forever . . . Stared at it, just to figure out what about it that bothered you so much. I couldn't, so why don't you . . . help me out here?"

Gin smiled sadly, staring at the seashell. "Isabelle . . . she looked like a dancer."

Cain shook his head and leaned against the window. "I guess so."

"I thought she'd be beautiful, but she was . . . She was more beautiful than I expected, you know?" Ears flattening as she quickly shook her head, she avoided Cain's gaze as she clutched the seashell to her chest. "I mean . . . I could see why you . . . loved her . . ."

"It wasn't because of how she looked," he remarked tightly then grimaced. "Maybe it was. I don't know." He barked out a terse, humorless laugh. "God, that sounds bad . . ."

"No . . . You would have had to have been . . . attracted to her, right?" Gin shrugged. "It makes sense."

"You don't have to make excuses for me. I've made my share of mistakes."

Gin frowned. "But Isabelle . . ."

"No, no . . . not her. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have Bellaniece. Never her."

"Of course not." She set the shell back on the shelf and grabbed another one. "Cain? Can I . . . can I ask you something?"

"All right."

Her swallowed hard as she tried to find the right way to phrase it. Trouble was that there really wasn't an easy way to ask, no gentle way to delve for answers that she wasn't entirely sure he'd give her. Still she had to try, didn't she? She owed it to herself because not knowing was so much worse. "Are you still alive because you _want_ to be . . . or because you _have_ to be?"

He looked surprised by her question. It seemed to take the wind out of him, and he slouched back more heavily against the window frame. Shoulders slouching, head shaking slowly as a sort of bewilderment dissolved into the anger that she dreaded, Cain's chin lifted slowly as his eyes darkened into a cold glower, and somehow Gin didn't think it was directed at her, at all . . . "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard," he growled, claws digging into the window sill. Gin flinched. "You think I _want_ to die? You think I get up every morning, and tell myself that I've only got however many years left?"

"No," she whispered, blinking fast to hold back the rising tears. "No . . ."

"Good, because that'd be completely asinine!"

"I shouldn't have asked," she mumbled.

He sighed, closing his eyes as he suddenly shook his head. "That's the thing," he went on in a quieter tone though his eyes were still blazing when he looked at her again. "For a long time, that's exactly how it was."

"And now?"

The anger that had ignited behind his gaze dulled as an encompassing sense of melancholy surfaced. "Now?" he echoed then sighed. "See, I met someone, and, uh . . . she reminded me that there were still things in this world that were truly beautiful. Thing is, as much as I'd love to tell . . . her, I can't because I made a promise to Isabelle. I can't go back on it."

Gin stumbled toward the sofa and sank down, unable to meet Cain's gaze. "Your word . . ."

"Yeah . . . My word."

"And Isabelle? Would she . . . would she have wanted you to . . . follow her?"

Cain sighed again. "It's not that simple; not for me. I wish it were."

"I don't understand," she said as outrage surged through her. "I don't understand how someone---_anyone_---could be that selfish! If you were my mate, I'd want you to live, and---"

His voice was gentle, resigned and sad. His anger was gone, replaced with a sense of inevitability, a hopelessness that Gin couldn't understand. "She never asked me to die for her, Gin. She never asked that of me."

Gin rocked back and forth, wrapping her arms around her stomach as bile rose thick in her throat to choke her. "No, I don't suppose she did," she said quietly.

Cain pushed himself away from the window, wandered over to Gin only to sink down on his knees beside her. "There are parts of it that you don't understand . . . things I don't want you to have to _try_ to understand . . . it was never that easy, and there never really was a choice."

"But I . . ."

He smiled sadly, the expression lost somewhere between his lips and eyes, as though his eyes didn't realize that his lips were trying to lie to her. "So you know now. If you ask me to go, I will, and if you ask me to stay away from you, I'll do that, too."

She shook her head. "Cain?"

He winced. "I don't want to hurt you, baby girl. You know that, right?"

She didn't answer, staring at her hands clasped in tight fists in her lap. It was unfair, so unfair. She wanted to scream, to cry, to hit something. She couldn't even make a sound.

Cain cleared his throat, smoothed back her bangs, and kissed her forehead. "Gin, I . . . I've got to go."

He stood up and moved away. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't stop the tears that blurred her vision. "_Cain, wait!_" she rasped as she stumbled to her feet and turned around.

The apartment was empty. Cain had slipped away.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"All right, Dr. Sleepyhead. Sit up." 

Kichiro did a double take at the huge tray that Belle carried into the room. Heaping with sandwiches that all appeared to be different, the mingled scent of the various meats weren't entirely welcomed by Kichiro's still-weakened stomach.

"Damn, Belle-chan. I'm not that hungry," he grumbled, spotting a lone peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwich atop the heap. He tried not to wrinkle his nose.

"I forgot to ask you what kind you wanted, so I made a variety for you to choose from. This one's mine, though," she said as she set the tray down and grabbed the peanut butter sandwich. "Might I suggest you eat the grilled cheese first? It'll get cold if you don't, and cold grilled cheese . . . isn't so good."

Kichiro dropped the sandwich he was holding after sniffing it. It smelled much too close to the nasty-gross hot dogs she'd fed him at the amusement park. There was no way he was touching _that_, thank you very much.

She sat on the floor beside the bed and picked up her book in one hand, holding her peanut butter sandwich in the other.

"Grilled cheese?" he asked dubiously, picking up the only hot sandwich on the tray. Toasted brown and crispy, he scowled at the seemingly-innocent sandwich, wrinkling his nose as he registered the grease on his fingers. "It's greasy," he commented, careful to keep the plaintive tone out of his voice.

"It's because I buttered the bread to toast it. Anyway, just try it, will you? You might like it."

He didn't want to. He doubted he'd like it, at all. American food was far too sweet, and what wasn't sweet tended to be greasier than he could stomach. The sandwich was probably another in a line of foods he'd rather not eat . . .

Belle peeked over her shoulder, watching him with a curious frown on her face. He intercepted her gaze and stifled a sigh as he lifted the sandwich to his mouth. '_This . . . isn't that bad_,' he marveled as he slowly chewed the bite. In fact, he rather liked it . . .

"You look surprised," she commented as she watched him.

"This . . . is decent," he allowed as he bit into the sandwich again. "What are you looking at?"

She shook her head at his perceived lack of manners. "My photo album."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yep."

He shifted his position so he could peer over her shoulder. "Is that your mother?"

Belle nodded. "Yeah. She was really something, wasn't she?"

Kichiro grinned as he stared at the picture. It was easy to see that Belle was her daughter. The woman on paper looked just like the girl sitting on the floor. Her hair and eyes were lighter, but there was certainly no mistaking her. Even Belle's nose was a carbon copy of her mother. Dressed in a classic ballerina's tutu and elegantly posed, she had obviously passed her quiet elegance on to her daughter. "She was a dancer?"

"And an actress. Daddy doesn't talk about her, but he saved articles . . . She was a budding Broadway star when he met her. She was playing the lead in _Les Miserables_. That's all he's ever said, really . . ."

"She doesn't look like your father's type."

Belle frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kichiro shrugged. "Better than he deserves."

She smacked him lightly with the back of her hand, turning the page as she slowly shook her head. "My daddy's a great youkai."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, princess."

She fell silent as she stared at the pictures, taking her time as she paused now and again to touch a photograph, and he had to wonder just what she was thinking.

"Seems a little weird," he finally commented, polishing off the last of his sandwich and pushing the tray of untouched food away.

"What does?"

"Your father isn't in any of the pictures with her."

"Not so weird. He probably took them."

"Even then . . ."

Belle shrugged. "There's only one picture I've seen of them together. I forgot it in Japan."

"Oh, now that's cute," he remarked as he smiled just a little, pointing at the picture at the top of the next page. It had to be Belle, he assumed. The tiny infant with the full head of bronze hair caught up at the top in a tiny pink satin bow lay on a lacy white blanket in an ornately carved wooden crib. She couldn't have been more than a couple weeks old, but the sapphire blue eyes were ones Kichiro would never forget.

"Of course it is," she said lightly. "I was already a princess, you know."

"Absolutely," he agreed. "You look it."

She giggled softly and pointed at another picture. "That's me on my first Christmas. Daddy says I had just learned how to sit up by myself. You can see it there, can't you? I was _born_ sexy, right?"

Kichiro chuckled. "Sexiest pup, ever."

Belle turned the page. "I was three here," she said as she shifted the album so he could better see it. Sitting on a rock in an impossibly frilly pink dress with her hair in ponytails tied in wide lace, she looked like one of the porcelain dolls that InuYasha bought for Gin every year. Cheeks delicately touched with the barest hint of pink that matched the slightly darker shade of her Cupid's bow mouth, the girl in the picture was solemn, almost glowing. He wondered if that was a picture effect or if Belle really was as much of an angel as she seemed. "I was working on my sultry pout," she teased.

Kichiro flicked her earlobe. She ducked her head and giggled louder. "Here I was at five: my first day of kindergarten. That's the last time I cried in front of Daddy. I was so scared that the other children wouldn't like me."

"You? Afraid? I can't see it."

She shrugged. "I got over that soon enough. I met Moose and Squirrel . . . and Kelly . . ."

"Oh, now, that's sexy," he said as he flicked a claw at a school picture of a gap-toothed Belle.

Belle laughed and wrinkled her nose at him. "It was dumb luck," she told him. "I lost my tooth like an hour before these were taken. My tooth had come in by the next morning, of course, but not in time to save the pictures. Daddy actually smiled when he saw it."

"You father liked to dress you like a doll, didn't he?"

Belle sighed. "Sure. Maybe he thought that he needed to since I was a girl. Who knows? I always had the prettiest dresses, and tons of hair ribbons . . . You know, he never forgot to fix my hair in the morning, even if he overslept. Not once . . ."

He winced, sensing her sadness, wishing he were able to take away her pain when she thought about the past, or was it the future? "Yeah, he seems like he was a decent enough father," he allowed, "even if I still don't like him."

She shot him a quelling glance. He made a face. "Look at this one," she said, pointing out another picture. "How hot am I?"

He smiled, pushing her hair back so he could stretch out on his stomach with his chin on her shoulder. "Very," he answered, ignoring the image as he gazed at her, instead.

Belle caught his eye and blushed. "I meant that picture," she pointed out.

"I know you did," he agreed. "What are the odds I can get another of those sandwiches? The cheese one?"

She grinned. "You like those?"

He nodded, careful not to dig his chin into her. "I can tolerate them."

She giggled softly, clearing her throat as she suddenly seemed very, very shy. "Can you?"

His smile widened. "Sure."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain rubbed his temples furiously and stalked around the empty apartment. He'd done the right thing, hadn't he? Letting Gin go . . . She never had been his, to start with. Hearing her questions, seeing her upset, and knowing there wasn't a damn thing he could promise her that would make her feel any better . . . He'd do anything to see her smile again, but he couldn't make her promises that he wouldn't be able to keep. 

'_Do you think that this will make a difference? Do you really think that it'll matter at all?_'

'_Yeah, I do . . . Gin needs to be surrounded by laughter and love. She needs to be cherished and protected, and she needs to have someone who can do that without worrying about keeping his word_.'

'_You could be the one to do that if you really wanted to_ . . .'

He shook his head. '_I can't. I'd be lying to her, and . . . I _won't_ do that to her_.'

'_Either way you're going to hurt someone. Staying away from her will drive you insane. She's hurting enough already. Do you really have to add to that? Maybe . . . maybe it's not as bad as it seems, you know? You never really did make any sort of promise to Isabelle _. . .'

'_I know what I promised_,' he growled. '_I know what happened, and I know what I have to do. It doesn't really matter, how I feel about Gin. Isabelle . . . I _killed_ her. No one made me do it. I was stupid, and I was reckless, and Isabelle paid for my mistakes, didn't she?_'

'_Isabelle was as much to blame for all that happened as you were. Don't flatter yourself into thinking that you've cornered the market on stupidity_.'

'_I still gave my word. I can't go back on it now. As for Gin . . . She's better off without me_.'

The soft knock on the door drew him out of his recriminating thoughts. He knew who it was before he answered it. Hesitating with his hand on the door handle, he tried to tell himself that he shouldn't let her in; that she would be better off without him.

"Cain, _please_ . . ." her broken murmur penetrated the door. Her sadness, her quiet entreaty . . . it was more than he could bear.

Gin threw herself into his arms as he yanked the door open. A blur of movement, a wave of softness and light, she hugged him fiercely, burying her face against his chest as she whimpered, babbled, sobbed. Her heart raced painfully, and he didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing he could think of. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, cursed his weakness when it came to her, and tried to tell himself that it wouldn't really matter; that he'd protect her, even from himself.

"Y-you can't l-leave," she stuttered, tightening her arms around him. "You c-can't . . ."

"Gin . . ."

"No," she half-growled, half-sobbed. "You're my f-friend, and friends don't l-leave."

He sighed and scooped her up, carrying her over to the sofa where he sat down and cradled her in his lap. "I'll stay," he assured her. "Don't cry, okay? I hate it when you cry . . ."

She choked back her tears and nodded, leaning in closer, letting the beat of his heart soothe her. "I'm sorry," she muttered, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Sometimes I think too m-much, and sometimes . . . I get a little st-stupid."

"You're not stupid. I don't think you are. Don't apologize. It's not your fault."

"It's just . . . you l-looked so h-happy with her, and---"

"And that wouldn't bring her back to life. Even if it did, you know, don't you? I don't expect you to be her. I wouldn't want you to be, anyway."

"R-really?"

Cain smiled a little sadly, held Gin just a little closer, kissed the top of her head as she snuggled against him. "Really."

That seemed like it was enough for her. Her sigh was stunted and rough, but the tension eased out of her body, and for a moment, Cain wondered if she'd fallen asleep.

"Cain?"

"Hmm?"

"When your youkai chose her, what did it say to you?"

He frowned and leaned to the side, pushing Gin's bangs out of her face so he could see her eyes. She was sober, sad, but she tried to smile for him. He shook his head as her smile faded. "Say to me? About Isabelle?"

She nodded.

He had to stop and think about that. He couldn't rightfully remember his youkai voice saying much of anything. The occasional snide comment or two . . . Quiet warnings that maybe he was rushing into things a little too fast . . .

"It didn't," he answered.

Gin sat up. "It had to," she said slowly, a puzzled scowl marring her brow. "At least, that's what I've been told. Your youkai will tell you when you've found your mate---the one you're meant to be with . . . so yours had to say something, right?"

"If it did, I don't remember," he replied, shifting uncomfortably as Gin's frown deepened. "It doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"I think it does," Gin said quietly. "How did you know that she was the one?"

Cain sighed and gently set Gin aside before striding over to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Deliberately taking his time as he broke the seal and drained half of it, he leaned against the counter and shrugged. Gin was sitting on her knees, hands folded patiently in her lap. She stared at him in that entirely too-direct way of hers. Cain crossed his ankles and slowly shook his head. "It's hard to explain," he grumbled. "It's not like my youkai voice yelled at me or anything. In fact, I don't recall it saying much at all . . . at least, nothing important. Even then, I didn't really know what I was supposed to be listening for."

"You didn't know? Your parents didn't explain that to you?"

Cain sucked down the rest of his water and chucked the empty bottle toward the trash can. "My parents died when I was just a pup---barely a pup, actually . . ."

"I'm sorry . . ."

He waved off her concern with a derisive smile as he wandered back over to the sofa. Gin tugged her thin silk robe down to cover the top of her thighs. Cain tried to ignore her blatant state of undress as he sat down beside her and held out his hand.

She scampered to him, nestling herself in the crook of his arm against his shoulder. "Do you remember them? Your parents?"

Cain sighed. "Yeah, a little . . . sort of. I remember smells and feelings more than I remember them, I suppose. Mother always smelled like grass in the summer sun. Father . . . Father smelled like the wind."

"When did they die?"

"I must have been about five," he mused. Unable to recall exactly what had happened, the only thing Cain remembered was the smell of smoke, the burning forest; of sounds like thunder that echoed through the charred trees . . . "We lived outside Boston in the middle of a dense forest. I guess it might have had something to do with the unrest between the British and the colonies. The timing was about right. I was too young to understand, I think. I just remember Father's howl---the dog-youkai cry of mourning. The next thing I knew, we were boarding a ship that took us to Japan, and Father left me with Sesshoumaru. I never saw him again."

"Uncle Sesshoumaru didn't tell you all this stuff?"

Cain wrinkled his nose. "Sesshoumaru taught me about responsibility and honor, how to fight, and how to take care of business. My training didn't cover affairs of the heart. I suppose he thought I'd figure all that out by myself."

"How long were you with him?"

"About thirty years. When I came back to colonies, the American Revolution had just started. The day I dismissed the man who was interim tai-youkai in my absence was the day the Declaration of Independence was signed: July 4, 1776."

"That's a long time."

"Yeah, it is."

"Do you remember anything else about your parents?"

Cain smiled and shifted to bring his legs up onto the sofa. Gin stretched out in the narrow space between him and the back of the furniture, leaning up on her elbow to stare into his eyes. Tracing from forehead to tip of her nose with his index finger, he relaxed a tad bit more when she finally grinned, too. "I remember Mother's laughter. I remember . . . it used to make Father smile."

"That's a good memory," she decided, but frowned as she shook her head and bit her lips thoughtfully.

"What are you thinking about?" he finally asked when she didn't seem like she was going to answer.

"Nothing," she lied.

"Uh huh . . . You suck at lying."

She sighed. "It's not a lie . . . not really . . ."

"Then tell me . . . can't you?"

Gin looked like she wasn't quite sure if she could or should voice whatever she was thinking. Cain brushed her heavy fringe of silvery bangs out of her eyes. She leaned toward his hand like she couldn't stand the idea of losing his touch. "I know you can't make any promises to me, and I'm not asking you to. I just . . . I want to make you laugh, and . . . and I want to be here with you, so long as you'll let me."

"It'd be better for you to leave right now and not to look back . . . you know that, right?"

She scowled as a hint of pink flooded into her cheeks, and she shrugged. "Maybe. Probably . . . Mama told me a long time ago: sometimes you just have to do what your heart tells you is right, you know?"

"And being here . . . this is what your heart tells you?"

Gin nodded. "Yeah."

He didn't know what to say to that. Well, that wasn't exactly true. A million thoughts filtered through his mind, but there wasn't a single one he dared to voice aloud. Gin was more precious to him than anyone else had ever been, and the thought of losing her . . . He swallowed hard and sighed as she lay back down, idly toying with his ponytail. Cain held her tight and tried not to think about the day he'd have to say goodbye to her. "You know, Gin," he began, mostly to distract himself from his own bleak thoughts. "I was thinking . . ."

"Oh?" she mumbled, voice thickening with sleepiness.

"I could paint you next weekend . . . I promised you that, didn't I?"

"You did," she agreed. "Okay."

"You ready for bed?"

"I should go back to my apartment and get dressed," she mused though she didn't sound like she was at all interested in doing what she's suggested.

"You can wear one of my shirts, if you want," he offered.

"You sure you don't mind?"

"I don't mind."

She smiled and yawned. "O-okay. It's been a long day."

"Yeah," he answered as he drew a deep breath, "it has."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_I can't leave her _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	44. The Bet

**_Chapter 44_**

**_The Bet

* * *

_**

Belle shoved a few CDs onto the growing stack in Kichiro's hands and kept shuffling through the music bins.

"Kami, princess . . . your taste in music sucks," Kichiro grumbled as he shifted his arms to accommodate the pile of CDs and still hold onto the bag of new lingerie.

She flicked him a cool glance. "My taste in music is just fine," she countered as she stuffed three more CDs into his hands.

"I thought you were more cultured than this," he prodded.

Belle snorted. "So I have eclectic taste."

"Or none at all."

She shook her head. "You're such a snob."

"A snob with good taste."

"Uh huh . . . Here," she said, shoving even more CDs at him.

"What do you think I am? A pack horse?"

"A pack horse? Of course not! Well, maybe . . ."

He made a face. "Whatever, wench. Hurry it up, will you?"

"You're so grouchy."

"And you're so slow."

"This was your deal, you know," she remarked.

Kichiro rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me."

She sighed then giggled. "You said you'd buy me anything I wanted, and I want CDs . . . and a Discman."

"You're telling me you don't have one of those?" he asked, hefting an eyebrow in contention. "You're kidding, right?"

She shrugged. "It doesn't hurt to have more than one."

"Well, hurry it up. We still have to buy more panties."

She made a face. "I said I'd let you buy me some, and you have---I never said I'd wear them."

"Don't make me check you."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

Belle shook her head. "You're just a tad overbearing, don't you think?"

"And you're just a tad stubborn."

"Of course I am. Now should I get blue, green, or purple?" she asked, nodding at the three color choices for the Discman.

"Violet," Kichiro said with a snort.

"I think green," she decided, stooping down to retrieve a box off the shelf. "There! That should do it."

"Good," he grumbled. "Took you long enough."

She ignored his grumbling as the two headed for the checkout. "I can buy this stuff," she mused, digging into her purse for her credit cards.

"A deal's a deal, princess," he stated. "I promised, right?"

"Yes, but this is probably going to cost more than what you had in mind."

"Yeah, well, you'd have to buy a hell of a lot more than a few irritating CDs to break my bank account, wench."

"At least let me buy the Discman," she reasoned.

"Hands off, grabby. I got it; I got it. Don't forget batteries because I'm not running back to the store for them later"

"All right," she agreed with a sigh. "Thanks . . . and don't say I didn't offer."

She grimaced as the girl behind the counter scanned in the stack of CDs and the Discman, daring a glance at Kichiro when the total came up on the register. "Last chance . . ."

He snorted and handed his credit card to the girl. "It would have been better," he told her, "had you bought anything that was worth listening to."

"So you say," she said, waving her hand airily. "You might find something you like. Check the bargain bin---where the _old_ stuff would be."

"See how you are?" he countered as he stuck his card back in his wallet. "Just for that crack, you can carry the bag. Don't break a nail, princess."

"As if," she shot back, taking the bag from the girl and striding toward the open doorway.

"What's your hurry?" he demanded when he caught up with her outside the music store.

Belle stopped. "I'm not hurrying."

He shifted the large lingerie bag that she had flat-out refused to carry. "You are."

She wrinkled her nose, shaking her head when she caught sight of a couple girls walking nearby. The girls giggled, whispering to each other as they stared at the oblivious doctor. "Don't look now, but you're being checked out."

"I beg your pardon?"

Belle inclined her head toward the passing girls. "See? They're totally eyeing you." She paused, shooting him a calculated stare. "Go introduce yourself, why don't you?"

He barked out an incredulous laugh. "I don't think so."

"Oh, why not?" she teased. "Show me how it's done."

"Hmm, not happening."

Belle's eyebrows drew together in a marked frown as she clucked her tongue and heaved a heavy sigh. "I get it . . . you've lost your touch, haven't you? I suppose five years would do that to you, wouldn't it? You could have just said so, you know."

"What's that?"

She shook her head. "You can't pick up women anymore, can you? That's so sad . . ."

Kichiro looked almost as offended as he had the first time she'd announced that she thought he was gay. "I have not! I just don't feel like it."

Belle grinned. "Really? Are you sure? I don't know . . ."

"I could pick them up," he grumbled, face reddening as he increased his pace. "I don't need or want to."

"Are you sure?"

He shot her a menacing glare and kept moving.

"Are you scared?" Belle asked as she fell into step beside him.

"Of what?"

"Of being rejected, of course!"

"In what world, princess?"

"Oh, please! I'll bet you anything I could pick up a guy faster than you could pick up a girl."

"Like hell," he growled.

"Uh huh. I'll bet you . . ." she trailed off, stepping in front of Kichiro to stop him as she narrowed her eyes and gave him the critical once-over. Suddenly snapping her fingers, Belle's eyebrows shot up in an excited expression that Kichiro really didn't trust, and she pointed at him as an even more alarming smile surfaced on her face. "I'll bet you twenty-four hours that I can pick up a guy faster than you can pick up a girl."

"It's a bet you'd lose. Too bad there isn't a chance in hell I'd take you up on it."

"You _are_ scared, aren't you?"

"Hardly."

"Five years is a long time, Dr. Izayoi. I don't blame you for being too chicken to give it a try."

"I'm not chicken."

"'Fraidy cat."

". . . I'm not a cat, either."

"You won't take my dare?"

"No, damn it!"

Belle's already sinister grin turned downright devilish as she stared clucking under her breath.

"All right, all right!" he snarled. "You'll be sorry, you know."

"I doubt that," she retorted. "Whoever gets the digits first, wins."

"Digits?"

She shrugged. "Phone number, doctor! Pay attention, okay?"

"Fine. It's on, princess. Be prepared to eat some humble pie."

Belle rolled her eyes and checked her watch. "Okay. Let the games begin."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin could hear herself blinking in the darkness. Staring at the ceiling with a soft sigh, not even the sound of Cain's steady, even breathing could offer her a semblance of the well-being she normally felt at night. 

'_You know why, doll. You need to stop trying to analyze everything_.'

'_Maybe_,' she agreed as her eyebrows drew together. '_I wish it were that simple_.'

'_Do you think that lying here all night will help you figure it out?_'

'_No . . . No, I don't_.'

Cain's arms tightened around her, but he didn't stir. She wanted to let herself feel the same sense of protection, the same contentment that she had come to know at night. Something about him always made her feel safe, sheltered. That feeling was still there, and yet there was something else underneath it all, too; something darker and sadder, something painful and frightening . . . something that had become a little too real, and if she dwelled on it . . .

'_It shouldn't feel like that, should it?_' Gin mused as she carefully untangled her fingers from his hair. '_It shouldn't be so easy to stay here . . . It shouldn't be, but it is_ . . .'

'_Don't think about it, Gin. There's no comfort in the truth_.'

'_What do you mean?_'

Her youkai sighed. '_You don't know? You don't understand?_'

She shivered in the warm bedroom; the icy grip of a certain dread wrapping around her tighter than Cain's arms. '_No_,' she lied, refusing to acknowledge, even to herself, the crux of the realization that her youkai was trying to tell her. '_I don't understand, at all. We're just friends, Cain and I . . . Nothing more than that, not really_ . . .'

Gin bit her lip and sat up slowly, gently breaking Cain's grip on her before scooting off the bed. He moaned softly but didn't wake. She stared at him for a long moment, until the ache in her chest grew too sharp to ignore, and she slipped out of the room with little more than a whisper of her feet against the floor.

The apartment was somber in the quiet of the night. The shadows seemed melancholy, and even the vague light filtering through the windows couldn't displace the sadness surrounding her. As though the atmosphere in the dwelling had been marred by Gin's ugly thoughts, it choked her, pushed at her, tugged at her soul. Wherever she looked, she saw those eyes: the laughing smile of the woman that Gin knew she could never compete with.

She hadn't realized she'd wandered into Belle's room until she was sitting on the window sill holding the picture of them in her hands. Hanyou vision aided by the watery light of the sliver of moon was good enough to make out the faces in the image.

'_I . . . I love him._'

'_Don't think about it, doll . . . The truth won't help you_.'

'_But I do, and he_ . . .'

"Hey . . . what are you doing in here?"

Gin jerked back at the sound of Cain's still-sleepy voice. He yawned and shuffled toward her to lean against the window frame as he gazed from her to the picture in her hands and back to her face once more. "What are you doing?" he asked with a sigh. Gin shrugged and let him take the photograph from her. He set it on the nightstand and slowly shook his head. "Don't do that," he told her. "You don't need to."

"I don't know why I came in here," she admitted with a little shrug. "I couldn't sleep. Did I wake you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he told her gently. "Of course you did. I can't sleep without you mauling me. Guess I've gotten used to it."

She swallowed hard, nodded in agreement. He was trying to tease her. He was trying to make her smile. "Mauling you, huh? If you mind it, I could always go home . . ."

He chuckled. "Oh, no you don't. You got me used to it. Deal with it, baby girl."

"It isn't very flattering," she pointed out but smiled.

"Yeah, you're kind of like a leech---I just can't shake you off at night."

"You're the great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, ferocious North America tai-youkai, Cain Zelig. You're telling me you can't fight me off?"

His lips twitched as he hunkered down beside her. "You forgot virile," he told her.

She snorted but could feel the blush wash into her cheeks. "No, I didn't."

"Ah-ah . . . if you're going to use my . . . extended title, then you have to use all of it, Gin."

"You're impossible," she informed him, "and I'm not saying . . . that."

He yawned again. "You ready to come back to bed?"

Gin nodded, letting him take her hands and pull her to her feet. "I suppose," she agreed. "Cain?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think . . . I mean, is what we're doing . . . is it okay?"

He stopped and stared at her with a thoughtful frown. "What do you mean?"

Gin twisted her fingers in the long shirttails as she shook her head and avoided his gaze. "My sleeping here . . . in your bed . . ."

"Do you think it is?"

"I don't know, but . . . I want to think so."

He sighed. "Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me," she lied, trying not to fidget and fighting to keep him from seeing through the untruth.

He winced. "You really do suck at lying, you know it?"

Gin forced a smile. "It's nothing, really. I'm just . . . being silly." She made a show of yawning and grabbed his hand. "Let's go to bed. I'm exhausted."

His loud sigh told her that he knew she was avoiding his question, but he let her drag him back toward the bedroom and pulled her close when he lay down. "Gin . . . do me a favor?"

". . . Okay . . ."

"Don't look at that picture anymore."

She tangled her fingers into his hair. "All right," she agreed slowly. "If you don't want me to . . ."

"It's not that I don't want you to. I just . . . I don't like to see you sad, and whenever you look at it . . ."

Gin snuggled closer to him and nodded, closing her eyes as the familiar feeling of being completely protected surrounded her at last. "Okay."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_This could blow up right in your face_.' 

'_Sure, it could_.'

'_Do you think this is a good idea?_'

'_Why not? She dared me; I didn't dare her_ . . .'

'_Okay, great, but don't say I didn't warn you_.'

Kichiro sighed. True enough, this could be a colossal mistake. He doubted she'd have much trouble, if any, picking up a guy. She was drop-dead gorgeous, for kami's sake, and as much as he hated to admit it, she had a point. He hadn't tried to pick up any women in nearly five years . . .

Surveying the area with a critical eye, Kichiro noticed three young women sitting at a small table outside one of the mall cafes. One of the women smiled tentatively at him, and he shrugged inwardly before ambling over to them and leaning against the decorative railing beside their table.

"Excuse me, ladies. My name's Kichiro Izayoi, I'm new to the area and wondered if any of you could recommend a few things to do around here?"

The women giggled. "I'm Trish," the brown haired woman said. "That's Barb---" The blonde wiggled her fingers in greeting. "---and Cindy." The black haired girl giggled as her cheeks pinked.

"Pleased to meet you," he said with a curt bow.

"There're a few bars in the area," Trish mused as she quickly glanced at her friends.

"Well, there's an amusement park a couple hours away," Barb piped up.

"You don't say," he commented, trying his best to look surprised as he glanced over his shoulder to see what Belle was doing. Standing just inside the arcade across the way, she had yet to approach anyone. '_Maybe this'll be easier than I thought_ . . .'

"There's a zoo," Cindy added.

"The beach is great this time of year," Trish suggested.

"Is that your real hair color?" Barb asked as she leaned over the railing and fingered the end of Kichiro's thick silvery braid.

He refrained from jerking his hair out of the woman's hand since that would probably work against his mission, and he pasted on a lazy smile. "Maybe."

The girls giggled. Barb cleared her throat and let go of his hair. "Did you just move here?" she questioned with a bright grin.

"Uh, no . . . I'm just here long enough to take care of some business."

"Oh?" Trish said, her expression registering acute disappointment.

"What do you do?" Cindy asked.

"I'm a doctor," he told her. "A surgeon."

"A surgeon?" she echoed, obviously impressed with his vocation. "How interesting!"

He leaned his forearms on the railing and tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing as he regarded the black haired woman with an amused smile. "Don't tell me . . . you're a . . . beautician?"

Cindy laughed. "Close. I'm a dog-groomer."

"Really," he remarked, trying not to laugh at the sheer irony.

"Gotta love those dogs," she said with a shrug.

He did laugh at that. "And you ladies?"

"I'm a paralegal," Trish said.

"And I teach yoga," Barb answered.

"So . . . you could teach me how to . . . bend; you could dig me out of trouble; and you could . . . groom my dog?" he commented, shifting his gaze from one woman to the next as he addressed each one in turn.

The women laughed.

"Ah, you know, I'll be in town a few more weeks. Maybe we could all get together? You could take pity on me and take me sightseeing . . ."

"All of us?" Trish asked with a rather dubious glance at her friends.

"Sure . . . the more the merrier; isn't that how the saying goes? If you would be kind enough to give me your numbers, I'll give you a call sometime."

"Okay," Barb agreed, digging out a pen and scribbling her name and number on a napkin before passing the pen and napkin to Cindy, who followed suite. Trish added hers and handed the pen back to Barb before extending the napkin to Kichiro.

"Thanks, ladies. You've been more help than you'll ever know."

They waved and called out their goodbyes as Kichiro bowed slightly once more. Schooling his features to a bland expression, he turned around to look for Belle. She was still standing in the same place. Kichiro stuffed the napkin in his pocket and strode over to her.

"Any luck?" he asked softly, leaning over her shoulder, lips brushing the curve of her ear.

She uttered a small shriek and whipped around, hand pressed to her heart. She nearly dropped her shopping bag. Kichiro chuckled. "You have your number?" he asked her.

Belle rolled her eyes as her cheeks darkened in a ruddy hue. "Give me a minute, will you?" Her gaze narrowed, and she let her hand fall away from her chest. "Giving up already? Let me guess . . . you got shot down."

"Nope."

"What do you mean, 'nope'?"

He shrugged. "What does that normally mean, wench?"

"You got a number? That fast?" she demanded incredulously.

"Nope."

She shook her head. "Then what are you doing over here?"

"I got three of them."

Her mouth dropped open as her eyes widened.

"Close your mouth, princess . . . this isn't the time or place for that."

She still didn't close her mouth, but her cheeks darkened a little more, and she reached over to slap his chest. "You're such a dog!"

"Well, duh."

She held out her hand, wiggling her fingers as she tapped her foot.

Kichiro rolled his eyes and deliberately took his time, digging the napkin from his pocket and smashing it against his chest to smooth out the wrinkles before slowly looking over the numbers and offering it to Belle with a flourish.

"Oh, for the love of pete!" she scoffed. "Are you sure you didn't make these up?"

Kichiro turned and guestured at the women who were still watching him with smiles on their faces. "Be nice and wave, Belle-chan. That's Trish the paralegal, Barb the yoga instructor, and Cindy the dog-groomer."

They waved at Kichiro, and he waved back. Belle muttered something that sounded like 'pig' as she held out the napkin, pinched between her index and middle fingers, as though she thought it just might bite her.

He took the napkin and stuck it back in his pocket. "Okay, so that was three numbers times twenty-four hours . . . You have to do whatever I want for an entire weekend."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Oh, no . . ."

"Oh, yes."

"That wasn't the bet!"

"It stands to reason. If one number is good for twenty-four hours, then three numbers would be good for seventy-two---that'd be three days, wench."

"But that wasn't the bet!"

"Belle . . . think of it this way: if the situation were reversed, and you had gotten the---what did you call them? Ah, yes, the digits . . . would you or would you not have tried to make me agree to three whole, entire days of your bidding?"

She blushed and blustered but not before he saw the hint of guilt flash across her features. "Of course not!"

He shook his head. "Yeah, you would have."

"I'm not doing whatever you want for three whole days, buddy." She started stalking away. Kichiro hurried after her. "You're such a pervert! Three of them?"

"What can I say? Women can't get enough of the Kich."

She rolled her eyes and walked faster. "_One_ day, Dr. Izayoi."

"Give it up, princess. I won, fair and square, and---and did you even approach a guy?"

"Of course not!"

"Why not? It was your bet, remember?"

She sighed and ducked her chin, staring at the floor as she hurried toward the exit. "Because apparently, I'm a little pickier than you are. Go figure."

"What's there to be picky about? You were just supposed to get the numbers; you weren't actually going to date whatever guy you chose."

Belle shot him a perturbed glance. "I might have."

Kichiro grabbed her arm to stop her. "What?"

She shrugged. "Like I'd ask for some guy's number if I didn't really want to go out with him."

"The hell you would have," he growled.

Belle wrinkled her nose and jerked her arm out of his grip. "I might have."

He made a face. "Oh, hell, no."

"You're telling me you have no interest in seeing your three . . . women?"

He might have laughed at the way she'd said 'women' if he weren't still irritated over her claim. "You say that like it's a curse word," he pointed out as he held open the sheet glass door that led to the parking lot outside the mall.

"It could be," she shot back.

Kichiro snorted. "Whatever, wench. Let me remind you that this whole thing was your idea; not mine, and . . ." He trailed off as he slowly turned to eye her. Scowling mutinously at the pavement under her feet, she looked like a petulant child. Kichiro suddenly chuckled. "Jealous, are we?"

"I—Jea---_No!_" she stammered.

His chuckles escalated into deeper laughter. "I like that," he assured her. "Jealous . . . I can deal with that."

"I'm not jealous," she insisted.

"Of course you're not," he leered as he plucked the shopping bag out of her hands. "A whole weekend of whatever _I_ want . . . Nice . . ."

She growled at his gloating. "I'm not doing it . . ."

He chuckled again. "We shall see, princess . . . we shall see."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Three **whole** days_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	45. No One Quite Like Her

**_Chapter 45_**

**_No One Quite Like Her

* * *

_**

Gin scooped up the collected sketches and tapped the stack against the table to straighten it. "L'amont-san called me earlier," she said casually as she set the stack on Cain's desk.

Cain dropped the pencil he had been tapping against his chin and very slowly swung his head around to stare at Gin. "Oh, did he?"

She nodded as she hopped up onto the edge of his desk, crossing her legs and nodding. "Yes, when I went home to change for class. Anyway, he invited me to lunch."

"And?" Cain prompted.

"And I said I'd meet him after class, so I won't be able to help you Friday afternoon."

He choked out an incredulous laugh. "That's funny, Gin. It almost sounded like you thought you'd meet him alone."

Gin licked her lips and scrunched up her shoulders, ears flattening for a moment as she scratched the side of her head. "I am."

"Uh huh . . . Yeah, you're not."

She scowled as he snatched up the pencil, drumming the eraser against the desk as he reached for the stack of sketches. "I want to go, Cain, and it's just lunch. It's not like I'm going to run away with him or anything stupid like that."

"Damn right, you're not, because you're not going at all."

"Do you have a good reason for saying that?"

He snorted. "Yeah---because I said so."

Gin made a face. "Can we discuss this?" she asked reasonably.

"Not really."

"Cain---"

"Absolutely not."

"_Cain_ . . ."

"Don't make me call your father, baby girl."

Gin's mouth dropped open. "You wouldn't!"

"If it'd keep you away from that pervert? Just try me."

"Well . . . it's not like it's a date. Papa . . . wouldn't care . . ."

"You believe that?"

Her expression must have told him that she didn't really believe it at all. Cain looked almost exultant. Gin rolled her eyes and hopped off the desk. "I can take care of myself, you know," she pointed out.

"I know you can," he told her. "That's not the point."

"Then what is?" she challenged.

Cain sighed. "Look, Gin, I know you can take care of yourself. Thing is, you shouldn't have to. I know Pierre, and I know you're the kind of girl he loves to get his hands on. Just trust me on this, will you?"

She shook her head. "But I really want to go. Maybe it isn't a big deal to you. You talk to people like this all the time. I have so many questions I'd like to ask him. It's just lunch, Cain, in a public place, and if it would make you feel better, you could walk me there and meet me right afterward."

He didn't look like he wanted to agree. "All right," he finally said with a shake of his head and a long-suffering expression. "But if he so much as _touches_ you in any way that could be considered indecent . . ."

Gin rolled her eyes but smiled. "I won't let him; I promise."

"I know you won't. I trust _you_. I just don't trust _him_. Be careful, okay?"

"Okay."

Gin shuffled idly through the stack of sketches with a critical scowl. They were all sketches of the nude woman who had modeled for the class. "It's funny," she mused. "Everyone drew the same woman, but all the sketches look completely different."

"Of course they do," Cain replied. "It's a matter of perception. No two people are going to draw things exactly alike, even if they are looking at the same thing."

She smiled. "I suppose you're right."

Cain stood up and came around the desk to peer over her shoulder at the sketch in her hands. "That one's interesting," he remarked, trailing his claw over the image and studying the artist's signature. "Ah, well, there you have it. Drawn by a guy. That figures."

"What do you mean?"

Cain chuckled. "Look at her unrealistic proportions: tiny waist, overly large breasts . . . it looks cartoon-ish. Not a bad thing, just interesting."

Gin stared at the picture and shrugged. "You think so?"

"Where's your sketch?"

She shuffled through the stack to find hers and handed it to him. He nodded slowly as he examined the image. "You know . . . your style . . ."

"What?" she asked reluctantly, twisting her fingers together in a fleshy knot. "Is it bad?"

He shook his head. "No, not at all . . . You just . . . you interpret things the way they should be seen. Idealism at it's best, but . . . Well, maybe that's not such a bad thing."

"I prefer to think of it as being optimistic," she replied, thinking of his commentary on her fruit sketch.

"You look at things and see what they could be. There's beauty in that."

"Really?"

He nodded slowly. "Absolutely."

A trace of sadness flashed through his gaze. Gin grimaced and scrambled for another topic; one that might make him smile as she braced her hands on the desk and hoisted herself back onto the top. She didn't like it when he was sad. She considered her personal mission to be making him laugh.

"None of these sketches are very similar," she remarked, lifting the stack to shift through them again, "but they're all really good."

"Some of them are better than others," he commented. "Some of them have more feeling behind them."

Gin laughed. "You think any of your students will ever be famous like you?"

He made a face and dropped the sketches onto the desk as he shook his head. "Fame is overrated, Gin."

"Maybe," she agreed, "but if you weren't famous, you wouldn't have been asked to lecture. If you weren't famous, I wouldn't have gotten to meet you."

That gave him pause, and he thought it over. "You don't know . . . I might have met you anyway. I do know your uncle. Who's to say it wouldn't have happened?"

"Why did you stay here?" she asked quietly. "I'd read all about you. They said you were reclusive. Why would you decide to teach?"

"I . . . don't know," he answered as he gazed at the windows and the overcast gray sky. "It seemed like a good idea at the time, maybe?"

Brushing aside the feeling that there was more to his decision that he wasn't telling her, Gin kicked her legs, crossed at the ankles, and smiled. "I'm glad you did," she assured him.

"Yeah . . . I am, too." Cain shrugged offhandedly and shuffled his feet. "You ready to go? I think I'm done here."

Gin waited till Cain finished stuffing the sketches into his attaché case before sliding off the desk and grabbing her backpack. "Can we stop and get some lunch? I'm starving."

Cain rolled his eyes but chuckled. "All right, all right . . . can't have you starving, now can we?"

She giggled and followed him to the door, waiting outside in the hallway as he flicked off the light and pulled it closed.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Here," Kichiro said with a hefty grunt as he plopped the huge box onto the bed and stepped back. "Don't ask me what's in it; Belle didn't say." 

Kelly dropped the magazine she had been reading onto the stand beside the hospital bed and eyed the box rather dubiously. "Where is Belle?"

He shrugged. "She said she had other things to do."

"Oh?"

He ignored the stab of his conscience and shrugged again. "Yep."

Okay, so that wasn't _exactly_ the truth. Belle had wanted to accompany him and made no bones about it---until he had insisted that she admit to being jealous of his three phone numbers or she couldn't come along. She'd stared at him in disbelief before throwing her hands up at her sides, grumbling under her breath about idiot hanyous with over-inflated egos and stomping off toward the staircase. She had stopped long enough to tell him to drop off the box beside the door, and he'd glowered at the gift, festively wrapped in hideous green gift paper.

"Ah, well, never look a gift horse in the mouth . . . or a gift half-dog," Kelly quipped as she pulled the box closer and tore into the paper.

Kichiro glanced over the clipboard with Kelly's latest stats and slowly nodded. "Good . . . everything looks good here . . . As long as your tests come back okay today, we'll schedule your first skin graft for Monday morning . . . Tuesday at the latest, if I can't reserve an O. R. for Monday."

"Wow," Kelly breathed, ignoring Kichiro's assessment. "Oh, this is awesome! Give Belle-y a huge hug for me, will you?"

Kichiro snorted and looked up from the clipboard as Kelly pulled a huge stack of CDs and a brand new Discman out of the box---the stuff he'd bought for Belle just yesterday---or so he had thought. "Wait . . . that stuff wasn't for Belle?"

Kelly made a face and giggled. "Belle, listen to current stuff? You've got to be kidding, right? She listens to ancient stuff: jazz and show tunes and . . . _opera_ . . ."

"Does she," he mused, ear twitching as he scowled at the CDs Kelly was shuffling through. "You don't say . . ."

"You think she'd listen to a band called the Funk Monkeys?" Kelly countered, waving a shrink-wrapped CD in Kichiro's direction.

"Kami, I hope not," he grumbled.

Kelly laughed and unwrapped the CD. "Oh, she even bought me batteries! I love Belle . . . just love her . . ."

'_Why would she do that?_'

'_Do what?_'

Kichiro shook his head. '_Why would she make me buy all that crap if it wasn't for her?_'

'_Because, baka . . . you offered. You said you'd buy her whatever she wanted if she agreed to buy the panties_.'

'_I didn't mean she was supposed to buy something for Kelly_ . . .'

'_Maybe that's what she really wanted. Anyway, I think it was pretty sweet of her_.'

'_Feh_.'

"Are you okay? You look a little ticked off."

Kichiro blinked and schooled his features but couldn't quite keep his right ear from twitching. "Never better . . . why?"

Kelly shrugged, her expression darkening with unvoiced apprehension. "Tell me, Dr. Izayoi . . . what do you really think of Belle?"

"She's . . . all right . . ."

"Just 'all right'?"

"She's fine."

"Ouch."

"What?"

Kelly rolled her eyes. "Pretty harsh assessment. Most guys trip all over themselves around her."

Kichiro snorted. "Do they?"

She sighed, sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest. "Hello? Have you seen Belle?"

"Pardon?"

"She's gorgeous, you know. Hell, if I were a lesbian, I'd be all about her . . ."

Kichiro snapped his mouth closed as his ear twitched faster. "I told you, she's fine."

"Okay, I hear you," she remarked as she pulled the plastic wrap off another CD. "It's probably for the better, anyway. Belle doesn't seem to like you at all, anyway . . ."

"Why . . . what'd . . . what'd she say . . .?"

Kelly's fingers stilled momentarily, and she glanced up at him before turning her attention back to her presents. "Well, she _did_ call you Dr. Gaylord . . ."

He couldn't quite repress the growl that escaped at the reminder. "Yeah, let's not yank at that string."

"And I think she used the words 'insufferable', 'anal', 'narcissistic' . . . Oh, and don't forget, 'asinine' . . . I like that one: 'asinine' . . ."

"Listen---"

Kelly's gaze turned speculative as she set the stack of CDs on the nightstand and folded her legs. "I can't imagine why that'd be . . . you look like the kind of guy she'd go for."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kelly shrugged. "The brooding sort, you know? Like you're closet basket case with a sordid past veiled in mystery . . ." She wiggled her eyebrows then grinned. "Or a basket closet case, in which case you would be offended in her insistence that you're gay . . ."

"All right, that's so wrong, I can't even begin to explain the levels of wrong-ness . . ."

"Fine, fine, then tell me the truth: what do you really think of Belle-y Button?"

Kichiro started to shake his head then stopped, his gaze turning speculative as he scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Okay, then you tell me the names of Belle's three . . . guys."

"Why would you want to know their names?"

He shrugged. "Curiosity."

"Uh huh . . . If you want an honest answer, you could at least supply an honest reason."

He laughed. "You're all right, Kelly. I rather like you. How about we just say it's morbid curiosity and leave it at that?"

"Fine, so tell me what you think of her?"

"She's . . . all right, for a little girl."

Kelly rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay . . . D, R, and C."

"D, R, and C?"

"Sure . . . if you're going to give me a half-assed answer, then that's what you're getting in return."

He sighed. "She's . . . nice looking."

"All right . . ." Kelly agreed slowly. "That's not really going to get you much more of an answer."

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

He drew a deep breath and leaned against the window sill, crossing his ankles as he glowered at the floor. "The truth, huh? Okay . . . The first time I saw her, I thought she was . . . the most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen."

"Nice . . ." Kelly approved with an amused nod.

"So?"

She giggled, hooking a strand of mousy brown hair behind her ear. "Diddy, Rachet, and Corn."

"What?"

"The names you wanted . . . their nicknames, anyway."

"Oh, that's low," he argued.

"You didn't specify . . ."

"You've been taking sneaky lessons off Belle-chan, haven't you?"

"Where do you think she learned it?"

Kichiro heaved a contentious sigh.

"You like her? Really like her?"

He didn't answer, and he tried to keep his expression blank. Kelly laughed, and he grimaced inwardly at his obvious failure.

"I could . . . tell you some of the things that Belle's told me . . . things she'd like . . . if you want."

"What makes you think I need your help?"

Kelly shrugged. "Well, for starters, you're asking me for names that you should be getting from Belle . . ."

"Like she'd tell me."

"Maybe. Maybe not. For God's sake, you didn't even know that the CDs were for me . . . Do you know anything about her at all?"

Kichiro snorted. "Feh! I know she likes . . . junk food . . . and haunted houses . . ."

"What was that?" she asked since the last part of his statement had been significantly muffled.

"Nothing. So, uh . . . what do you want in exchange for your advice?"

"I want a straight answer about something,"

"Okay. What is it you want to know?"

Kelly sighed. "Belle's paying you to do this, isn't she? The surgeries . . . I told her not to. I told her I didn't want her to pay for it."

Kichiro considered her question and shrugged. "Sort of . . . not really. She's working for me, in my office back in Tokyo, if you call that payment."

Kelly shook her head. "I thought as much. That's Belle for you. She thinks she's to blame whenever something goes wrong. She thinks she can fix everything, even when it wasn't her fault."

"I've gotten the feeling that Belle thinks she could have prevented the fire."

Kelly tugged at her robe, picking off tiny balls of fuzz and dropping them back onto the material once more. "It was my fault, you know? I was stupid and careless, and Belle . . . if she'd have been there, maybe she could have put out the fire . . . or maybe she'd have been burned, too." She hesitantly met his gaze, wincing as she tried to shrug in a careless show of nonchalance. "If she'd been hurt . . . Well, anyway, things happen for a reason, right? Even bad things . . ."

Kichiro nodded slowly. Kelly had a good grasp on reality---a better one than Belle did sometimes . . . "So tell me: what sort of things does Belle like?" he asked, changing the subject for Kelly's sake. It wouldn't do, to let her get upset. She needed to be strong and healthy for the surgery. Dwelling on the past . . . it wouldn't change a thing.

"Things Belle likes . . ." Kelly frowned at the ceiling and pondered the topic. "She likes . . . shopping."

Kichiro rolled his hand as he nodded impatiently. "Yeah, I got that one. What else?"

"She's not all that picky, you know? She's said before, she just wants to feel loved; nothing fancy . . . just a note or a flower . . . stuff that lets her know that someone's thinking of her." Kelly laughed suddenly, shaking her head as she grabbed a pillow and hugged it against her chest. "We were watching a movie once---I don't remember what it was or anything . . . The guy took his girl for a carriage ride through Central Park, and Belle . . . she said that was what she wanted, something like that."

"That seems a little . . . cliché . . ."

She shrugged. "What do you expect? Her daddy's always been her hero, and her daddy would have done something like that, if she'd asked him."

"Yeah . . . I don't think anyone will ever compare to her daddy."

Kelly laughed a little sadly. "Of course not . . . I used to think that she was the luckiest girl, ever. Cain's the kind of father the rest of us only wished we'd had. I mean, he was _always_ there, whenever Belle needed him, no matter what, and he never, ever got mad at her. It was like his world revolved around her, and, well, I guess it does. You know, right? About her mom?"

He shook his head. "Just that she died when Belle was an infant."

Kelly nodded. "There was gossip . . . I heard my parents talking about it once when they thought I couldn't hear them. I never believed the stories, and I figure Belle's never heard them, but maybe . . . isn't there normally some bit of truth behind rumors, no matter how small?"

"What did they say?" he asked, unsure if he really wanted to hear it or not. Something about Kelly's demeanor . . . whatever it was she'd heard . . . Kichiro knew it wasn't good.

"I've never told Belle," Kelly said. "I . . . can't . . . even if it's not true . . . It's not something I'd want to know; not about my daddy."

"You think I'd tell her something that would hurt her?"

Kelly grimaced. "No, I don't. That's why I've told you what I have so far. You . . . you care about her, I can tell, and I'm glad because Belle . . . she doesn't let many guys get near her."

He wasn't sure what to say to that. He nodded slowly. "I see."

"The rumors . . . They said that Cain . . . They said he killed her---Belle's mom. That's . . . that's what they said."

"_What?_"

"I don't believe it. Cain . . . Well, he's not perfect, but who is? It's just that he's not a killer, either. Anyone can see that. All they have to do is see Cain and Belle together. Anyway, my parents were trying to decide whether or not I should be allowed to hang around a girl with such a 'dangerous' father. It was . . . stupid."

Kichiro shook his head in disbelief. Even if he didn't particularly like Cain Zelig, he also couldn't believe that Cain had killed Belle's mother, either . . . It wasn't possible, was it? "How could he have . . .? That's got to be a mistake . . ."

"If you tell Belle, I'll hunt you down and chop off your balls . . . Got that?"

Kichiro snorted. "Like I'd tell her something like that." Pushing himself back to his feet, he paced around the foot of the bed with his hands on his hips and a glower on his face. "And no one knows exactly what happened to her mother?"

Kelly shrugged. "Nope. Well, Cain does, but I doubt he'll ever tell anyone. To my knowledge, he's _never_ told anyone, ever. Even then, if I had been accused of murdering my mate, I think I'd at least speak up . . . let everyone know that I didn't do it."

"Are you saying you think he did it?"

Kelly sighed. "I think that it doesn't matter what really happened. I think . . . I think that he blames himself, even if it isn't true."

"And Belle's never been told any of this, right?"

Kelly shook her head.

"Good."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_**New Fic Alert!** One of my betas and a very talented author in her own right, Sari-15, has a new fic out. It's InuYasha and Kagome, and it's called Vicissitude. You can find it here: www(dot)mediaminer(dot)org(slash)fanfic(slash)viewst.php/98392 or www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net(slash)s(slash)2443620/1 … Check it out! It's worth the read_!

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_That … can't be right _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	46. Bumps and Bruises

**_Chapter 46_**

**_Bumps and Bruises

* * *

_**

Gin leaned her elbows on the counter, hunched over the _Theories of Art Appreciation_ textbook as she waited for the timer to ring. She had a test tomorrow, and she'd been lax in studying of late. Hoping for a good grade, she'd opted to spend the evening alone in the quiet of her apartment with the book despite the heavy sighs and sulky glances Cain had employed to sway her resolve. It hadn't taken her long to realize that she couldn't study as her conscience weighed on her, and to that end, she had taken extra pains to bake a really special cake for Cain in hopes that he'd be appeased, allowing her to feel less culpable while she studied.

'_He's worse than a pup, really_,' she mused as she shook her head and closed the textbook she wasn't really reading.

'_He likes having you around, doll. You should be glad_.'

'_I am_,' she thought. '_I just need to study; that's all_.'

'_Remember the stories your mama used to tell you? About your father and how much he hated your mother's studying?_'

Gin grinned as she cracked the oven door to check on the cake. '_Comparing Papa and Cain? Hmm . . . I doubt either would appreciate that_ . . .'

The soft knock on her door made her smile. Even if she weren't hanyou, she would know who it was. He was starting to remind her of a lost puppy---a rather pathetically sorrowful lost little puppy that she adored.

Her smile widened when she opened the door only to find Cain standing there looking both disgruntled and apologetic with a somewhat sad-looking lily in his hand. "Your grandmother," he said slowly, holding out the peach flower, "is a little mad at me."

"Grandma?"

Cain made a face. "I went for a walk," he told her as she took the flower and brought it to her nose. "Ended up by the shrine . . . I saw these flowers and thought about you, and . . . picked one . . . just before your grandmother asked me---very nicely, of course---what I was doing to her flowers."

"I see . . . Grandma loves her flowers," she replied, trying not to laugh.

"I offered to pay for it," he said defensively. "I don't know why that flower reminded me of you . . ."

Gin smiled. "I helped her plant them," she answered. "So you actually picked one of my own flowers for me. If you'd told her it was for me, she wouldn't have cared."

"Talk about coincidence."

"Nothing coincidental about it," she quipped. "I planted these years ago, knowing that you were going to come along and pick this one, just for me."

"That's got to be it. You, uh . . . done studying?"

She opened her mouth to tell him that she hadn't really started yet, but he looked so hopeful . . . "Yeah," she told him. "Finished a little bit ago."

The relief on his face was instantaneous. "Good . . . I smell cake. It wouldn't be for . . . someone I know, would it?"

"Sure," she told him with a little giggle. "You have to wait for it. It's still in the oven."

"Can I come in?"

Gin let go of the door and wandered back toward the kitchen to search out a bud vase for the lily. The image of Cain Zelig, wandering down the streets of Tokyo with the flower in his hand made her laugh, and that only got worse when she dared to peek up at him.

"What's so funny?"

"Not a thing," she lied, trying to hold back her amusement but only succeeding in sending blood rushing into her cheeks for the effort.

"Uh huh . . . why do I feel like you're laughing at me?"

"I wouldn't laugh at you . . ."

"You are."

"Maybe just a little."

"Oh? And what did I do that was so funny?"

"Well . . . I'm just imagining you walking around with the flower, is all . . ."

"All right, all right . . . that's the last time I do something nice for you," he grumbled.

"No, I like it," she assured him. "I'll even tell Grandma that you picked it for me so she won't be irritated at you."

Cain snorted. "Yeah, you don't have to do me any favors."

The timer rang, and Gin grabbed a towel to take the cake out of the oven. Cain leaned over her shoulder and sniffed at the cake. "You put coffee in that?" he asked, eyeing the chocolate cake as she set it on the stovetop.

"Yep. This is Kichiro's favorite cake. I thought you might like it, too."

"Aw, that's just too bad that he's not here to have any," Cain remarked, sounding anything but contrite.

Gin shook her head and leaned to the side as she gazed up at him. "I'll just make him a huge one of his own when he gets back."

"Why would you do that," he countered, "when you could just make another one for me instead?"

"Didn't you ever learn to share?"

"Nope, must have missed school that day . . ."

"I always make cakes for my family."

"Yeah, your family can get their own cake fairy . . . this one's taken."

Gin giggled as Cain kissed her cheek loudly. "Your cake fairy, huh?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her head. "Absolutely."

"Are you still going to paint me?"

"Do you still want me to?"

She ran a spatula around the edge of the cake pan to loosen the cake. "Sure . . . unless you don't want to . . ."

He shrugged. "If you're sure," he agreed. "We could do that this weekend."

"All right. You know, you need to let go."

His arms tightened. "Why's that?"

"I need to turn the cake out of the pan."

"So go ahead."

She sighed as her smile widened. "All right, but you need to let go so I _can_ do it."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, but only because . . . that cake smells good."

"I'm glad you came over," she told him.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

"Well, you did seem a little irritated when I told you I needed to study."

Cain grimaced. "I wasn't irritated," he told her. "Well, maybe a little . . . I just like being with you. That's not bad, is it?"

"No," she agreed. "I like being with you, too. I just can't study with you. You're too distracting."

He looked a little too pleased with himself. "I am?"

"Yeah, but don't let that go to your head. Zelig-sensei."

"Oh, absolutely not, baby girl . . . about that distraction . . . How, _exactly_, do I distract you? I need examples, instances . . . details."

"I don't think you do."

"All right," he said, inflicting a measure of sadness in his tone. "It's fine . . . _Don't_ tell me . . ."

"Oh, stop pouting," she scoffed. "You're as bad as Ryomaru with Nezumi . . . or Papa with Mama . . ."

He snorted and stomped over to the sofa. Gin stifled a giggle and shook her head. '_Definitely a lot like Papa_ . . .'

Her youkai giggled, too.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro scowled as he stood at the top of the landing. He could sense Belle close but wasn't sure exactly where she was. Maybe she was in her room. Striding down the hallway toward her closed door, he heaved a sigh and shook his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

The ride back to the mansion had been subdued. Rehashing Kelly's cryptic words, he was no closer to making sense of what he'd been told than he had been when he'd left the hospital. Though he didn't believe the rumors about Cain killing his wife, he had to allow that Kelly had a good point. Things of that nature normally did have at least a basis for support even if the entire thing wasn't entirely accurate. The truth of it was something that no one save Cain would ever really know. Kichiro wasn't as interested in hearing the sordid details of the past as he was in the baser need to protect Belle from whatever pain it would cause her.

He had figured out one thing, though. He'd decided that he was going to claim his three days, and he was going to do it this weekend. The rest of the drive home had been spent on the cell phone, making arrangements and calling Japan to enlist his uncle's assistance. Though he was taking care of everything, there were a few strings that Kichiro was more than happy to let Sesshoumaru pull. The ends would justify the means. Belle would thank him later.

He hoped.

Knocking on her door, he tapped his foot impatiently. She didn't answer, but he could tell she was inside. '_Maybe she's sleeping_,' he thought. '_If that's the case, she'll be mad as hell at me for waking her_ . . .'

He almost turned away, figuring his plans could wait. The memory of his surprise as he watched Kelly pull the items from the box---things he'd purchased for Belle, or so he'd assumed---stopped him, and he slowly reached out and turned the doorknob.

But Belle wasn't in her room. Sunlight filtered in the far windows, filling the room with cheerful afternoon light. The French doors, however, had the floor-length pink curtains drawn, and Kichiro stared at them thoughtfully. The sound of her laughter filtered into the room. She was out on her balcony.

The door was open just a crack, and Kichiro could hear her speaking in hushed tones on her cell phone. He stopped to listen.

"So you liked your present?" She sighed, waiting while Kelly answered her. "Good . . . I thought they'd cheer you up."

Wrinkling his nose as the fabricated scent of coconuts and something he couldn't quite identify assailed his nostrils, he opened the door a crack to slip outside---and stopped dead in his tracks. Luckily for him, he was situated behind the lounge chair she was settled on, and she had her eyes were closed as she held the phone to her ear. The scent of the tanning oil must have overwhelmed his scent because she didn't appear to have noticed his arrival at all, which was a good thing, considering . . .

She was . . . topless---_completely_ topless. Wearing nothing more than the bottom half of a bikini with impossibly high cut thighs that rode the curve where her hips tapered into her narrow waist, Belle's skin glistened in the sunlight, rich, warm, the golden skin of her body drawing him in like a moth to a flame. The girls, as she liked to call them, were completely exposed, and he stifled a groan when she laughed, causing the most tempting undulations that made his mouth go dry.

'_Oh, balls, Kich . . . what the fuck are you waiting for?_'

Kichiro shook his head, unable to form words, even in his mind.

'_Kami . . . look at them! Just . . ._ damn!'

'_I . . . uh . . . we . . . she_ . . .'

'_Yeah, yeah, quit stammering and get over there!_'

'_Holy . . . damn_ . . .'

'_Couldn't have said it better, myself . . . now get moving, Kich . . . That is a _fine_ fucking rack_ . . .'

Forcing his feet to move, Kichiro grabbed the chair beside the door and strode around Belle to sit beside her. She gasped and sat up but didn't make a move to cover her breasts as she narrowed her gaze on him and wrinkled her nose in abject disgust. "Sorry, Kel. Gotta go. I'll call you later. Bye." Snapping the phone closed as she reached for her water bottle and tipped it to her lips, Kichiro had to stifle another groan as a few drops of condensation dripped from the bottle onto her breast. The icy liquid made her nipples pucker, and he forced his eyes away again. "You could have knocked," she said mildly as she set the bottle on the table and lay back again.

"I did," he managed, perversely proud that he was able to keep his tone neutral.

"I didn't hear you."

"But I did," he replied.

"Would you mind if I said I want you to leave?" she asked pleasantly enough.

"Don't mind at all," he assured her. "Not leaving, but I don't mind your asking."

She sighed. "That figures."

"Do you always tan out without a top?" he asked, deliberately letting his gaze rest on her breasts.

"That's a stupid question."

"Is it?"

"Do you see tan lines, doctor?"

He grinned. "Nope."

"Then there's your answer."

"And your father lets you do this?"

Belle rolled her eyes. "Of course he does . . . as long as I'm up here. If I were to try it in the back yard, he'd probably have a fit."

"Up here . . . down there . . . I don't really see the difference," Kichiro challenged, his tone leaving little room for misinterpretation of his disgust over the situation.

Belle snorted. "Why is that? I'm in my room with my door closed and my curtains drawn. This is my balcony, and civilized people don't just barge into my room, now do they?"

"I did knock," he elaborated again. "You could put your top on, if you're uncomfortable."

"I'm perfectly comfortable," she assured him. "Are you uncomfortable?"

"Oh, please, princess," he scoffed. "I see breasts all the time. I'm a plastic surgeon, remember?"

"And a man-whore," she quipped.

"There's that, too."

She smiled insincerely, leaning to the side to reach under her chair to retrieve the bottle of tanning oil. Slow panic wrapped around him as she deliberately unscrewed the cap, shooting him an almost triumphant look as she drizzled the oil over her breasts and stomach.

'_Damn it_ . . .'

'_Think she needs help, Kich?_'

'_Shut up_ . . .'

'_Ask her!_'

'_No! Oh, hell_ . . .'

Slowly, methodically, she massaged the oil into her already slick skin. Again her nipples reacted, this time to the ministrations of her fingers. He ought to look away, he thought in a Belle-induced daze. He couldn't do it. Her hands mesmerized him as she took her time rubbing her breasts. When she uttered a low moan, his eyes flashed up to meet her gaze. "Enjoying the view, Dr. Izayoi?"

The huskiness in her tone had the same effect on him as watching her slather on the oil. He shifted in the plastic chair and shrugged. "It'll do," he answered tightly.

"It'd do?" she echoed, cheeks reddening with indignant color. "I see . . . by the way, I called your girls today. They're looking forward to your date Friday night. Have fun."

"You expect me to believe you called them?"

"You think I didn't?"

"Too bad," he replied. "We'll be out of town, you know."

"And just where are 'we' going?"

"My three days, princess. Did you forget about them?"

"I can't believe you're still obsessing about that," she grumbled. "The deal was twenty-four hours for a phone number."

"And I got three," he informed her. "So suck it up. We're leaving first thing Friday morning."

"Leaving? Where do you think we're going?"

"For my weekend, wench. Get used to the idea because you're not getting out of it."

It was all he could do, to force himself to his feet, and he turned on his heel, strolling off the patio even as his youkai screamed at him to go back. As badly as he wanted her, and as much as he would give to touch her, he knew---just knew---if he manipulated her now, he'd lose her.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain chuckled as he turned the pages in Gin's photo album. The tiny hanyou girl was smiling broadly at the camera with both hands in the air. "How old were you here?" 

Gin leaned over his arm and groaned, slapping her hand over the picture. "Thirteen," she answered as he pried her hand away. "Give me the book."

"Nope," he answered. "You were a very cute pup, but damn, you were skinny. All arms and legs . . . like a monkey."

She blushed and grabbed for the book again. "Cain!"

"But you're so proud!" he told her, snatching the book out of her reach. "What were you so proud of?"

Gin made a face. "Nothing . . ."

"Oh, come on, Gin."

"You'll just laugh at me."

"I won't laugh; I promise."

"Sure."

"No, really . . . I won't."

She could feel her face redden. "I'd just gotten that swim suit."

"And it was lovely," he agreed, trying not to laugh at the bright pink one piece suit.

"That's so embarrassing."

He chuckled. "What's embarrassing about your swimming suit?"

She blushed darker. "It wasn't the suit . . ."

"What was it?"

"That was right after Mama bought me my first bra," she mumbled. "I thought I was finally getting . . ." She paused, covering her face with her hands. "I thought I was finally growing bumps."

Cain blinked and tried not to laugh. "Bumps?" he choked.

"Bumps," she answered. "You know . . . breasts."

"I figured," he replied. "You called them . . . bumps?"

"Mama did," Gin said. "She told me that when I was really small."

"Bumps?"

She slowly uncovered her face. "I told you; I was little!"

"But you just said it!"

Gin made a face. "What did you tell Bellaniece they were?"

Cain snorted. "Breasts."

"I mean when she was a pup."

Cain nodded. ". . . Breasts."

Her mouth fell open. "You didn't!"

"I did. I thought it was better to teach her the actual name for her body parts."

"I learned the actual names," Gin replied.

Cain tried not to chuckle. "I'm sorry, Gin, but those---" he said, pointing at her breasts, "---are absolutely not 'bumps'."

She stared at him for a moment before dropping her gaze to her white blouse. "And just what should I call them, then?" she countered.

He shook his head, grasping at the air with his hands as he considered her question. "Ah . . . uh . . . I don't know . . . handfuls?"

"Cain!" she gasped, mouth hanging agape as her already flushed skin darkened another few shades. "I can't believe you just said that!"

'_Oh, crap . . . I said that out loud?_'

'_Yeah, you did, you dog_ . . .'

Cain winced then shrugged inwardly. '_It's true enough. They look like they are_ . . .'

"They're breasts, Gin, _breasts_. I've heard you say the word before. I know you can."

"Of course I can," she scoffed, waving off his teasing with a flutter of her hand. "I mean, I know they're breasts . . . Why are we discussing this?"

"You were telling me why you were so happy in that picture," he reminded her, "and you were sidetracked when I said that I taught Bellaniece the word 'breasts'."

"Oh, yeah," she replied. She snapped her mouth closed and shook her head as a puzzled scowl stole over her features. "What did you tell her your . . . thing . . . was?"

Cain coughed indelicately. "What thing? My penis?"

Gin jerked her head 'yes', biting her lip, obviously distressed over the word he'd so casually tossed out there.

He did laugh at that. "A penis."

She gasped loudly and slapped a hand over her mouth as her cheeks grew painfully red. "You taught her . . . _No-o-o_ . . ."

Cain rolled his eyes. "Of course I did. That's what it is, isn't it? What did your mother teach you?"

Her ears flattened as she shook her head. "She said it was a . . . pee-pee."

Cain looked absolutely appalled. "I do _not_ have a 'pee-pee'," he informed her.

She lifted her eyebrows in silent question. "Oh?"

He snorted. "No, I've _always_ had a penis, thank you."

"You're so bad," she said with a shake of her head.

He closed the photo album and set it on the coffee table before turning his attention back to Gin once more. "You don't know the half of it."

"Really?"

"Nope . . . am I making you uncomfortable?"

She shook her head. "Not really . . . well, maybe a little."

"Gin?"

She twisted a lock of her hair around her finger as she studiously avoided his gaze. "Hmm?"

"You're sexy as hell when you blush."

Her blush darkened, eyes darting to meet his before skittering away. "I-I am?"

"Absolutely." He leaned toward her as her eyelashes fluttered closed. His lips brushed over hers as her suddenly ragged breathing rolled over him in a soft caress. Closer, closer, heartbeats twining together in an intricate patter of an entirely erratic rhythm . . .

And his stomach growled.

Gin giggled as Cain sighed. She pushed on his shoulders, and he sat back in defeat. She scampered to her feet and headed for the kitchen to cut him a slice of cake.

He watched her go with a disheartened shake of his head, but he smiled.

'_Nice, Cain . . . ruining the moment with your stomach_.'

'_Well, I haven't had anything to eat all day_ . . .'

'_I'd have preferred to have kissed her_.'

His smile faltered then faded away. '_I would have, too_.'

'_So why don't you seem happier?_'

'_I shouldn't want to kiss her, should I? I shouldn't feel the things she makes me feel_ . . .'

'_Who says? It's not bad . . . Gin . . . Gin's good for us_.'

'_Yeah_,' he thought with a grimace. '_Trouble is . . . I'm not really good for her_.'

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

… _Handfuls_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	47. Destination Unknown

**_Chapter 47_**

**_Destination Unknown

* * *

_**

"You ready to go?"

Belle paused for a second before peering over the top of her magazine to level a pointed glare at Kichiro. He handed a small wad of bills to the porter and closed the door before turning to gaze at her, expression inscrutable.

She didn't answer as she shifted her gaze back to the magazine again, set on ignoring Kichiro, even if it killed her.

He let out a deep breath and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he leaned back against the door. "Come on, Belle. My weekend, remember?"

She didn't answer that, either.

_When she had come downstairs with two packed suitcases, he had lifted an eyebrow and told her to go out to the car. Thinking he would bring her luggage, she had done as he ordered without argument until he emerged from the mansion moments later with her small, floral printed toiletry bag and nothing else_.

"_What are you doing?_"

"_That's all you'll need," he told her as he dropped the bag into her lap and closed his door_.

"_Where's my luggage?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady and calm_.

"_I told you, princess. You won't need it. Trust me, all right?_"

_It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she'd rather trust the devil. In the end, she nodded, and he had wordlessly driven her to the airport_.

_On the Inutaisho private plane, she'd tried to get him to tell her where they were going. He had ignored her line of questioning, opting instead to hold out his hand and ask to see her purse_.

"_Why do you need to?_"

"_I just want to see it," he told her. "Hand it over, will you?_"

"_Absolutely not_."

"_My weekend, Belle-chan," he reminded her as he wiggled his fingers. She heaved a sigh and thumped her purse into his hand. Watching in shocked horror as he plucked all of her credit cards out of her wallet followed by the cash she'd taken out of the bank the day before, Belle was caught somewhere between denial and rising panic as Kichiro stuffed all of the confiscated items---including her cell phone---into the inside pocket of his jacket_.

"_Where do you think you're taking me?" she demanded, glancing out the window of the Cessna_.

"_I told you, Belle, I think you'll have a good time . . . Just keep an open mind, all right?_"

"_A good . . . you took my credit cards!" she snarled_.

"_Yeah, I did. Just trust me, will you?_"

"_Oh, that's a good one! Trust you after you just stole all my credit cards and my money? Are you mad? You tell me that you want me to be able to fight and take care of myself, and then you pull a stunt like this? Give me back my things, you jerk!_"

_Kichiro shook his head slowly and stood up to get a cup of coffee from the pot that was bolted to the wet-bar on the other side of the plane_.

_By the time the plane touched down at LaGuardia, Belle was stewing over Kichiro's show of high-handedness. The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew, and the angrier she grew, the quieter she became. He'd taken her luggage, her money, and her cell phone since he probably figured---and rightly so---that she would call her father to tell him about Kichiro's latest escapade_.

At least he'd taken her to the hotel first, to freshen up, or so he'd said. That was laughable, really, since she had nothing but her brush, a comb, and her toothbrush and paste. She'd flopped onto the sofa and grabbed the only thing around to distract herself---a copy of _New York by Night_ magazine.

It was inconceivable, in her opinion. He'd brought her to New York City---the Mecca of shopping----for 'his' weekend but had taken her credit cards and money. He needed to replenish his wardrobe, he'd said. In other words, she was being forced to accompany him to all the boutiques and specialty stores, but she wasn't allowed to buy a thing. It was enough to make her want to cry. It was cruel and unusual punishment. If Kichiro had a heart, and she highly doubted that he did, he would give her back her credit cards and money---at least her cell phone so she could call Cain . . . Cain wouldn't be amused by this; not at all. Belle was completely dependent upon Kichiro's whims, and that certainly wouldn't sit well with Cain Zelig.

"Come on, wench. Get your shoes on. We're going."

That earned him a fulminating glare before Belle clamped her mouth closed and set about ignoring him again.

"Don't you want to go shopping?"

Belle snorted. "I'd rather not. Window shopping in New York City isn't my idea of fun, thanks."

"I thought you'd jump at the chance to dress me, Belle-chan. You don't want to?"

"Not especially."

"Are you going to pout all weekend?"

"Are you going to keep my credit cards that you stole out of my purse?"

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't steal them. That would imply that I intend to use them, and I don't. You can have them back as soon as we get back to Maine. Until then, they're off-limits."

"I see," she said without glancing up from the magazine.

"Let's go."

Belle pretended not to have heard him as she casually flipped the page.

He strode over and jerked the magazine out of her hands. She glared at him. "Are you going to stick that in your pocket, too? You're going to run out of room in there . . ."

Kichiro planted his hands on either side of her, leaning down until his face was inches away from hers. She'd tried his patience, and he was ready to snap. Belle forced herself not to retreat. "This isn't open to negotiations, Belle. You made a bet, and you lost. Now get your shoes on, and let's go."

She wasn't sure if she was angrier that he had succeeded in intimidating her or because he hadn't given in at all. With a heavy sigh designed to let him know just what she thought of his plan, Belle slipped on her shoes and followed him to the door.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_I hate him, I hate him, I hate him,_ I hate him!' 

Belle twisted the hot water tap with her toe and scrunched up her face in a disgusted scowl. She didn't care how much he threatened or how loud he grumbled, she wasn't coming out of the bathroom until hell froze over. As far as she was concerned, she was finished with shopping, finished with his weekend, and finished with _him_.

_Watching him try on suits and being measured for alterations hadn't been bad, not really. The women in the shops had stared at him with quiet appreciation, and the clothes he'd chosen were classic and yet didn't seem stuffy, either. Or maybe . . . maybe that was because Kichiro, as much as she loved to tell him otherwise, would never, ever be boring_.

_That had been almost enjoyable. He'd asked her about colors and fabrics, had listened to her when she would suggest a tie or an alternate shirt. He had actually seemed to value her opinion, and it had surprised her that she could enjoy that from him_.

_But the last shop they'd stopped in had brought all that to an abrupt end. Located near Saks Fifth Avenue, the new boutique was small in scale but featured the latest designs of some of the newest stars on the fashion front. Belle had fallen in love with one of the dresses on display in the window. Completely impractical since it was a floor length evening gown created in elegant eggplant silk, she'd gazed at the dress with obvious appreciation. Kichiro had noticed, and before she could ask him what he thought he was doing, he'd dragged her into the store and told the salesgirls to help Belle try the dress on_.

_That had sent the girls into a whirl of measuring and pinning for alterations. Kichiro hadn't said anything. He simply sat back in the thickly cushioned chair outside the dressing room with a highly amused grin on his face as he sipped a cup of coffee_.

_Belle had tried to tell the girls that she wasn't going to purchase the dress. She hadn't even wanted to look at herself in the mirrors. When she'd finally glanced at Kichiro for help, he had looked away, whispering something to another salesgirl and rewarding her with a brilliant smile---one that Belle, herself, had never gotten from him_.

_But the final straw had been later, after Belle had finally managed to wave the girls off long enough to get dressed in her own clothes. She'd stepped out of the dressing room to find him surrounded by all the salesgirls. A couple of them were actually touching his hair. One was hanging onto his arm as he spoke to her in a tone that Belle couldn't hear. When he finally spotted her standing nearby, he shrugged off the girls and wandered over to her. "Put the dress up, Belle-chan. We're leaving_."

_Holding her head as high as she could manage while her cheeks flamed red and the girls giggled behind her, Belle handed the dress to the nearest sales girl and followed Kichiro out of the store_.

Belle sank down lower in the tub, letting the bubbles surround her chin as she sulked and turned off the tap with her toe.

"Belle, you about finished?" Kichiro asked, voice muffled by the door.

She made a face and snorted as she grabbed the thick pink sponge off the side of the tub and dunked it in the water. "I told you, right? I'm not coming out," she called back.

"You'll get all wrinkly."

Ignoring him as she squeezed half a complimentary bottle of body wash onto the sponge, Belle raised her leg and started scrubbing.

"You'll miss dinner, and I know you're hungry."

Belle spared a moment to glower at the wrinkled, rumpled, dusty dress she'd worn all day and would have to wear the rest of the weekend.

"Suit yourself, but you'd better be out of that tub in fifteen minutes, or I'm coming in."

And knowing Kichiro, he meant that, too. Too bad Belle was sick of his twisted bit of fun. There wasn't a single thing that could get her out of the tub, she figured. She was staying there till he agreed to give her back her credit cards or agreed to take her home.

She took her time scrubbing her other leg, then her arms, consoling herself with the hollow thought that the first day of her private hell was nearly over. '_Only two more to go_,' she thought with an unrepressed whimper.

Gasping loudly as the bathroom door opened, Belle scrunched down further in the tub as Kichiro swept into the bathroom with a garment bag slung casually over his back. He shot her a cursory glance and shook his head disgustedly. "Ten minutes, Belle."

She narrowed her eyes as she glanced from him to the garment bag that he hooked on the door and back again. "What . . . is . . . that?"

"Don't know . . . you'll have to get out of the tub to find out, won't you?"

"I don't think so," Belle grumbled. "I'm up on all your tricks, Dr. Jekyll. I'll be staying right here, thank you."

He paused with his hand on the doorknob and shrugged carelessly. "Suit yourself, then. If you don't come with me, you can go hungry. I don't care. Take your choice."

Unleashing an irritated growl as he pulled the door closed behind himself, Belle glowered at the scarlet garment bag dubiously, intent on trying not to wonder just what might be inside it.

'_We could see what's in the bag, couldn't we?_'

Belle snorted. '_Absolutely not_.'

'_Just a quick peek?_'

Belle shot the bag a surreptitious glance. '_A peek? No!_'

'_But we are kind of hungry_ . . .'

'_I'd rather eat dirt_.'

'_What if it's something . . . nice?_'

'_Nice? From him? Did you lose your mind? He doesn't do nice things . . . not for me_.'

'_There's always a first time, you know_.'

She grimaced and sighed, glancing at the garment bag yet again. '_Maybe_,' she agreed slowly. '_Then again . . . how many times have I thought he might be nice, and then . . . If that's another of his cruel tricks, I think I'd rather not know it._'

'_Okay . . . How about we look, and if it's mean, we threaten him until he gives back your cards? Would that work? Besides, not even he could be _that_ mean . . . right?_'

Belle could argue that. She could name a few instances where he had been meaner than luring her out of the tub with an empty garment bag. Good thing she'd rather not think about those times . . .

With a heavy sigh and the promise that she could and would hop right back into the tub, Belle stood up and reached for a fluffy white towel.

The bag didn't _feel_ empty. Hesitantly touching the plastic bag, she bit her lip as she reached for the zipper, wincing as she grasped the plastic tab and slowly pulled . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

'_You realize, right, there's a fairly good chance that she was dead serious about staying in that tub for the rest of the night_.' 

Kichiro shook his head and scowled at his reflection as he jerked out the bowtie and started over again. '_She'll look. She'll have to. She's too curious for her own damn good_.'

'_You hope. This entire thing could blow up in your face. You saw how upset she was today, and then making her leave the dress? Damn, Kich, that was really, really cold_ . . .'

Giving up with a short growl as he left the tie dangling around his neck, he slipped on his shoes and figured he might as well go see if his princess had gotten out of the tub yet. He hoped she had, if only to see what was in the garment bag. If she hadn't, and if she really was set on staying in the tub all night . . . He'd find a way to get her out of it. He just didn't really want to have to try.

She was standing in the hallway just outside the living room wearing the same gorgeous violet silk that she'd tried on in the boutique earlier in the afternoon. No shoes with her damp hair still caught up in a cheap plastic hair clip, she didn't seem to notice that she had an audience as she watched in mute wonder as people paraded into the hotel suite, setting up a chair and little tables and laying out all sorts of things they'd need to fix her hair and make up her face. Kichiro chuckled softly, and Belle slowly turned to stare at him. "What is all this?"

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he ambled toward her. "We're in New York City, Belle. Did you think that we were getting room service and going to bed early?"

She shook her head slowly, eyes clouding with confusion. "I don't understand," she replied, her tone wary, guarded---a tone that cut him deep.

Kichiro caught her chin and lifted her face, forced her to look at him, and he smiled. "You going to tell me that the princess doesn't want to be pampered?"

"You did all this for me?" she asked cautiously, shifting her eyes to flick over the assembled hotel staff.

He nodded. "Yeah, and you'd better hurry. It's not my fault you were going to sit in the tub all night."

It happened slowly---so slowly that Kichiro had time to discern and memorize every one of the changes in those moments. The sapphire blue of her eyes grew just a little brighter, a little clearer as her spiky lashes, still damp from the bath fanned over her cheeks once, twice. Her nostrils flared for a moment as her lips parted. The corners of her mouth drew up as the barest hint of a pink blush rose in her cheeks, dusted the bridge of her nose.

There it was. The smile he'd counted on. Kichiro smiled back, kissed her forehead, and gently pushed her toward the living room.

He leaned in the doorway, content to watch as the hotel staff fussed over Belle. The simple yet elegant gown seemed like it was designed just for her, and he couldn't help but wonder how many devastated men she'd leave in her wake tonight.

The dress clung to her frame but wasn't too tight; the alterations had been money well spent, as far as Kichiro was concerned. Every movement, every breath . . . he could see everything about her. The dress hid nothing but covered everything, and when she hopped up onto the high stool set up in the middle of the living room, the thigh-high slit up the right side of her skirt fell open to reveal her absolutely perfect legs. He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, resigned to wait as patiently as he possibly could while Belle basked in the total and complete attentions of the makeup and hair stylists.

He caught the eye of one of the stylists and jerked his head to bring her over. "Her hair needs to be up off her neck," he instructed without taking his eyes off Belle.

"Of course, sir," the woman said. "She's lovely; just lovely."

He shook his head as a slow smile surfaced. "She's absolutely _gorgeous_," he corrected.

The woman chuckled and nodded in agreement before hurrying away to carry out her instructions.

Someone stuck a glass of champagne into his hand. He didn't notice. So enthralled in watching Belle, he didn't pay as much attention to the staff. The makeup girl was finished and packing away her supplies. She hadn't done much. Belle didn't need much in the way of embellishment. A hint of mascara and a smudge of lavender eye shadow . . . no blush, just a touch of deep pink lip stain. Kichiro's smile widened as he lifted the champagne flute to his lips.

Forty-five minutes later, Kichiro closed the door behind the last stylist and turned around to face Belle. She straightened her shoulders and waited with a timid smile on her face.

"So?" she finally asked, biting her lip as her cheeks pinked.

He nodded slowly, a vague smile turning up the corners of his lips. "You'll do," he mumbled gruffly. "You, uh . . . You clean up nicely."

She ducked her chin but smiled wider as she smoothed the dress over her hips. "I won't embarrass you?"

"I doubt it . . . Are you going to try?"

She giggled. "I might . . ."

He sighed and unrolled his sleeves, taking his time as he worked the buttons on the cuffs. Belle sauntered toward him, catching the ends of his tie and tugging them to even them out. He lifted his chin and let her work the tie. She pulled it snug and patted it in place. "There."

"Not bad," he said as he checked the mirror. "Thank you."

Belle nodded and shrugged. "So . . . are we going somewhere or did we get all dressed up for nothing?"

"Patience, wench. Don't rush me."

"I thought . . . I thought you meant to spend all weekend humiliating me," Belle admitted softly. Staring out the window at the brightly lit city, she peeked over her shoulder and smiled. "I'm glad you're not."

"Belle . . . that wasn't ever the intention. I hope you know that."

"Then what is?"

He wandered over to her, ran his claw along the back of her shoulder. She shivered slightly but didn't pull away. "You can . . . You can trust me, you know. You can let me take care of you."

She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. "That's what you . . . want? To take care of me?"

"Yeah, I do," he whispered. "Can you do that? Can you let me?"

Belle opened her mouth to answer. A brusque knock on the door interrupted. He sighed and shot her an apologetic look before striding over to answer the door.

"Delivery for Dr. Izayoi."

Kichiro nodded and handed over his driver's license as he looked over the paperwork before signing his name at the bottom. The delivery man handed him a box. Kichiro closed the door and slipped the box onto the table behind the sofa.

Belle gazed expectantly at him. "What's that?"

He shrugged. "Open it."

She looked dubious and reached for the box but jerked her hand away. He chuckled. "It won't bite you, I promise."

"It's a . . ." she trailed off then cleared her throat, her hand fluttering delicately at the base of her neck. "It's a jeweler's box."

"That'd be my guess," Kichiro agreed.

"I don't think---"

He took the box and opened the lid, nodding slowly before he snapped it closed again. "You don't need to," he told her. "It'd be a shame to have them and not wear them, though . . ." His eyes shifted but he didn't move his head. "You want to see them, princess? Who knows? They might . . . change your mind."

Belle pressed her lips together as she considered his words. She wanted to see what was in the box. Her curiosity was a palpable thing. He wasn't sure why she was being so reluctant. Slowly, carefully, he opened the box again, and even more slowly, he turned it around to show her.

Her gasp was shocking in the quiet room. Her eyes widened dramatically as her hands shot up to cover her mouth. Belle shook her head and stepped back in retreat. Kichiro chuckled as he lifted the heavily laden with huge diamonds and amethysts mounted in platinum necklace from the nest of royal blue silk. Stepping around Belle, he draped it around her neck and worked the clasp to fasten it as Belle stared in the mirror beside the door. "Are these . . . real?" she asked as she fingered the stones.

"I certainly hope so. If not, then the jeweler needs to be shot."

"You didn't . . . you didn't buy this, did you?"

He chuckled as he retrieved the earrings and carefully clasped them on her earlobes. "Relax, Belle-chan. These are on loan."

She smiled for an instant before she whipped around to face him, apprehension dawning in her eyes. "I can't . . . what if I lose them? What if we get mugged?"

"It's fine, Belle. If they get stolen, there's always insurance. If they get lost . . . just don't lose them, okay?"

She shook her head. "Oh, no . . ."

Kichiro shrugged and chuckled softly. "I'll make you a deal. You concentrate on having a good time, and I'll worry about the jewelry."

She winced. He reached out, touched her cheek. "Trust me, princess."

She gulped but nodded at last. "Okay."

Kichiro pulled his jacket as Belle fidgeted with the necklace. He opened the door and waited for her. "Oh, and Belle?"

"Yes?"

"You look . . . beautiful."

She seemed surprised by his appraisal, but she smiled and blushed as he slipped an arm around her waist to escort her to the elevator.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_Beautiful _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	48. Light and Dark

**_Chapter 48_**

**_Light and Dark

* * *

_**

Belle sat back on the thickly cushioned bench and blinked in surprise as Kichiro climbed into the carriage beside her. Almost timidly, he smiled at her, extending an absolutely perfect, long-stemmed pink rose bud. "Cliché and stupid, right?" he joked, the right side of his face shifting into a grimace.

"Old fashioned, maybe," she argued as she took the rose. "Not cliché, and certainly not stupid."

He wrinkled his nose and shrugged as he settled in beside her, slipping his arm over the top of the low seat. Belle glanced at his hand, resting on her shoulder, but didn't try to shrug him off. "I can't believe you arranged all this," she admitted as she gazed around at the darkened landscape of Central Park. "How did you know I've always wanted to do this?"

"I have my sources," he quipped. "I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself tonight."

She giggled. After dinner at the exclusive Four Seasons restaurant where he'd somehow managed to secure one of the private dining rooms just for the two of them, he had swept her away via limousine to the New York Metropolitan Opera in time to see _La Traviata _with a spectacular view from one of the exclusive private balconies. It was beautiful, captivating her as she forgot everything, wrapped up in the spell of the haunting melodies, forgetting everything but the melancholy beauty of the opera.

She'd never been to an opera before, but Belle loved the music. To see it with her own eyes, to experience something she'd only dreamed of seeing, was something that she couldn't describe. The intricacy of the opera, the decadence of the New York Metropolitan Opera . . . The magic of Kichiro's quiet company . . .

It seemed so right to her, maybe a little too right, too perfect, and she couldn't brush aside the disquieting thought that the evening would end; that Kichiro had somehow managed to bring the fairy tales that her father used to read to her to life, just for her, and like every Cinderella story, she would be relegated to the role of the little cinder girl by morning. When he'd taken her hand to help her to her feet as she wiped away an errant tear at the bittersweet end of _La Traviata_, Belle thought that the evening was over.

What she hadn't expected was the pristine white carriage with shining gold gilt trim that waited for them as they left the theatre. Drawn by a stunning white horse, it seemed out of place in the contemporary city. The driver had started to offer Belle a hand to assist her into the carriage. Kichiro shook his head at the man who laughed softly and bowed in deference to the hanyou.

"How did you manage this?" she asked as the carriage rolled through the busy city streets.

"You'd be amazed what the Inutaisho name can do," he informed her with a wan smile. "Not that I use that often, mind."

"Your uncle?"

He sighed, cheeks flushing lightly as he avoided her gaze, and he seemed a little irritated. "Yeah, well . . . it's the first time I've ever asked him for a damn thing, but he likes showing off his influence."

"He got you the reservation for the Four Seasons, didn't he?"

Kichiro shrugged and grimaced. "He got the reservation, yes. I paid for it, wench, just for the record."

She lifted the rosebud to her nose and sniffed, closing her eyes as she smiled in the semi-dark. "Tonight . . . It was . . . You amaze me."

"See what you'd have missed if you'd stayed in the tub all night?" he teased.

Belle giggled and twisted the rose in her fingertips. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Just . . . trust me, okay?"

"Is that what you want? For me to trust you?"

"Yeah," he answered, idly fingering a ringlet curl that fell against her neck. "You're a princess, you know. You . . . you should be treated like one."

"A princess . . ." She laughed. "Is that what this is? You're idea of treating me like a princess?"

"Depends. Is it working?"

Belle nodded slowly. "Yeah. It is."

"Good."

"What are we doing tomorrow?"

Kichiro shrugged and smiled slyly. "Something . . . You'll like it."

"Okay," she said with a slight nod. "I trust you."

Kichiro's smile widened. "Good, but you know, you'll have to have something else for tomorrow evening. A princess never appears in public wearing the same gown twice."

"I like this dress."

"Yeah, it's a little too formal for what I have planned."

"I thought this was your weekend."

"It is," he agreed. "I just happen to enjoy surprising you."

"You do?"

"Absolutely."

"I would have been all right with room service and a good movie," she told him.

"Sure, you would have, but I wouldn't have been."

"For years I've tried to talk Daddy into bringing me here. He always came up with one excuse or another, as to why we couldn't. I know he doesn't like congested cities and stuff. I understand that he is more comfortable in his own environment . . . I'm just glad you brought me here."

"It's not a big deal," he grumbled, shifting enough to bring her a little closer to him.

"It is to me."

"Yeah?

"Yeah."

His gaze turned serious, tinged with emotion that made Belle catch her breath. Amber eyes glowing in the weak light of the street lamps they passed under, he didn't bother to try to hide the raw feeling in his gaze. For a dizzying second, a stunning moment, Belle thought he was going to kiss her. He lifted his free hand, caressed her cheek, dusted the pad of his thumb over her lips with a gentleness that stripped away the lingering bits of her carefully constructed barrier as he slipped his hand around her neck, brought her toward him as his lips pressed against her forehead. She nestled closer to his side, her hand resting against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face in the crook of her neck as the carriage turned into Central Park.

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Gin placed her order and handed the menu to the waiter before daring another glance out the window at the small open air bistro across the street from the café where she'd met Pierre L'amont for lunch. 

'_He hasn't moved, has he?_'

Gin grimaced. '_Nope, not at all_.'

'_Good grief, he's really drawing attention to himself_.'

And he was. Patrons at the surrounding tables were eyeing Cain as though they feared he was about to lash out at them. The irritation emanating from the tai-youkai was bad enough. Even from where she sat inside the restaurant across the street, she could feel it. Add to that the black scowl on Cain's features, and, well . . . Gin winced as a waitress hesitantly approached Cain. He snapped something, and the poor woman hurried away only to reappear moments later with a cup of coffee that she gingerly sat on the table before beating a hasty retreat once more.

"Still with the social grace of an ox," Pierre said with a long-suffering sigh. Gin shot him a glance only to find the Frenchman staring out the window at Cain, too. "You are a saint to put up with his moods."

Gin shook her head and grimaced. "Not really . . . I mean, he's a wonderful person, deep down. He's smart and funny and honorable . . ."

"Of course he is," Pierre agreed. "Maybe a little _too_ honorable?"

"Too honorable? Is there such a thing?"

Pierre shrugged as he raised his glass of wine, narrowing his gaze as he swirled the liquid, staring at the glass but not really seeing it. "Zelig will live, and Zelig will die, and all that will be said for him is that he held his damnable honor in the highest of regard, no?"

"Honor is a good thing, a noble thing."

"Honor is a fool's escape. He can shut himself off from everyone and everything and use his honor as a shield. That's not good or noble. It's cowardly . . . and it's vindictive."

Gin didn't know what to say to that. In the end, she sipped her water and looked around, searching for something safer to discuss than Cain Zelig and innuendo that she didn't quite understand. "Your exhibition went well," she finally said.

Pierre looked surprised but chuckled. "Ah, yes, it did. I sold three paintings to add to my net worth that I don't really need but do so love to flaunt."

"Your work is just amazing," she went on.

"My work is a joke. Zelig's right. A painting of a ball on a table sold for 11,176,000 yen. There was no art to it. Humans, for the most part, have no real conscious taste in things. They are a shiftless lot, and they go with what happens to be the flavor of the moment---and this moment, the flavor is me."

"That's cynical."

Pierre shrugged but smiled. "It pays the bills."

She didn't answer as the waiter set their orders down and hurried away again. Gin stared at her plate and pushed her food around with her chopsticks. "Can I ask you something?" she finally asked, breaking the silence that had fallen.

"You may ask me what you will, mademoiselle, but I cannot guarantee an answer."

"Fair enough," she agreed, dropping the pretense of trying to eat. "Do you know what happened to Cain's wife? To Isabelle? Do you know how she died?"

Her question didn't seem to surprise Pierre though he did set his utensils aside and sat back. "That is something I cannot answer. The only one who truly knows is Zelig. There were rumors, of course: speculation and innuendo . . . I heard it all, but honestly, I could not tell you what was fact, what was fiction, and what was sheer coincidence."

"I see."

She must have looked a little sad. Pierre sighed and leaned forward, beckoning her closer like he was about to tell her a secret. Gin leaned in, too. "He was with her when she died. I know that much is true. She lived long enough to see Bellaniece. That is all I know."

"I don't think he'll tell me. It's not really my business, and even if it were . . . Cain doesn't tell me bad things, or things that he thinks are bad, anyway . . ."

"If I knew more, I would tell you. Ghosts and memories are formidable adversaries, especially when you have no idea what sort of skeletons lurk in the closet."

Gin fell silent again, her gaze returning to the window once more. Cain hadn't moved and didn't seem interested in his coffee at all. He was still scowling, arms crossed over his chest. Gin hesitantly raised her hand, wiggled her fingers in a small gesture. He nodded, and she knew he'd seen her.

"_Zelig will live, and Zelig will die, and all that will be said for him is that he held his damnable honor in the highest of regard, no?_"

Gin shivered, brushing aside the acute foreboding that surged through her at the memory of L'amont-san's dire predictions as best as she could, and tried to tell herself that Pierre L'amont had to be wrong.

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Belle laughed as the carriage rolled through the quiet park as Kichiro scowled and did his best not to laugh, too. "It wasn't funny," he grumbled while Belle laughed harder. 

"You've got to be kidding!" she choked, fanning her face as she tried to stop laughing. "You and your brother used to let Gin dress you up as girls?"

"Only when Ryomaru broke something . . . I'm not sure how I ever got suckered into it."

"Oh, but I'll bet you were a beautiful girl," she crooned.

Kichiro snorted. "Feh! That's the last time I tell you embarrassing pup stories," he grouched. "You were supposed to feel sorry for me over the Gin-induced torment."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It was cute, that's all . . . and really sweet."

"Yeah, right."

"I bet it was nice, having siblings," she told him. "I remember thinking I wished Daddy would remarry so I could have a sister or brother . . . or both."

Kichiro tightened his arms that were still wrapped around her waist. "It wasn't all it was cracked up to be," he assured her. "At least you never had to worry about not measuring up."

"Why's that?"

He made a face. "Never mind."

"No, really . . . Why would you say that?"

He shrugged. "No reason . . . Just that parents have a habit of labeling their pups, even if they don't really mean to."

"Oh? And what was your label?"

He smiled a little sadly, burying his nose in her hair for a moment, inhaling the sweetness of her scent. "I was the smart one."

"Not such a bad label to have."

"Maybe. You've heard the stories, right? About the old man and the Shikon no Tama?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, well, in the old man's time, might equaled right, and he was probably the toughest there was. Ryo's just like him."

She sat up and turned to face him, her expression a little confused and a lot sympathetic. "Are you sure you weren't reading more into it than there really was?"

He shrugged. "They've always been closer, in my estimation. The old man and Ryomaru . . . they were too similar not to be."

"You seem like you're close to your mother," Belle ventured.

He finally smiled. "Of course."

She giggled. "I always thought it was sweet, that you still call her 'mama'."

He snorted. "And just what am I supposed to call her?"

"It's fine, just sweet. Anyway, there's something to be said about being able to reason things before you run out and beat up on someone, don't you think?"

"I suppose."

"And your father . . . Did he ever make you feel as though you weren't good enough? Strong enough?"

Kichiro sighed. "Of course not. If anything, he tried harder, I think . . . like he wanted to understand me, even if he never really has."

"So . . . Ryomaru was the fighter, you were the brainiac, and Gin? Let me guess . . . Gin was the sweet one?"

Kichiro shrugged. "Gin was easy. She was everyone's baby girl, even Sesshoumaru and Kagura . . . Everyone loved her. They still do." He gave a short laugh as Belle settled back against his chest again. "Hell, I think it just might be impossible not to adore her."

"See, that's what I mean. I always wished I had a big family, you know?"

"My family's not 'big'."

"From my point of view, it is."

"Yeah, well, I don't think the world could take more than one of you, princess."

"God forbid."

"Absolutely," he agreed. She giggled again and tugged his braid that had fallen over her shoulder. "Oi, leave some hair, wench."

"Oh, did I hurt the big, strong hanyou?"

"Feh! Hardly."

"Then stop whining, Dr. Izayoi. It's very unbecoming."

"You could call me by name, you know. I won't bite you for it . . . well, I _might_ bite you . . . not for that, though."

She stiffened a little. Kichiro could have kicked himself. "Is it really that hard for you to say it? My name?"

"Yes . . . and no . . ."

"You're not making much sense, Belle-chan."

She sat up and sighed, shaking her head slowly as her shoulders slumped in a pathetic sort of way. "It's just . . ."

He winced at the doubt that filtered into her gaze. Even now, after the magical evening that he knew she'd completely enjoyed, there was still that hint of worry that he couldn't even begin to comprehend. "It's all right," he forced himself to say. "When you can call me by name . . . I guess I'll know you trust me."

"I . . . want to," she admitted softly as she twirled the rose in her fingers. "I really . . ."

"It's okay, Belle. I haven't made it easy for you."

The look in her eyes, the cautious hope that flooded her gaze . . . she didn't want him to give up, and he knew it. '_I won't, princess . . . I'll never give up on you_ . . .'

Her expression cleared as she tilted her head to the side. He could tell she was trying to figure out if she ought to ask him something. He sat back and waited.

"Why are you a surgeon?"

"Pardon?"

She shrugged and reached over to straighten his tie as she considered her own question. "I mean, there are a lot of times when I get the impression that you don't even like it. Your family's wealthy, so that can't be it. You're not following in anyone's footsteps, so I doubt it was ever expected of you . . . so why?"

Her question had caught him off-guard, and he rattled off the first answer that popped into his head. "It's not about liking it . . . plastic surgery gives me the time to do other, more important research, the means to fund that research . . . It was a good cover. It still is."

"Maybe, but if you don't like it, why do it?"

"I just told you."

"No . . . you gave me standard answers that you didn't have to think about. That's what you've been telling yourself, isn't it? What's the real reason?"

"I . . . I don't know."

"You know, it seems to me that you've been happier these last few weeks working on Kelly's case. Maybe . . . you feel like what you're doing for her is actually making a difference?"

Kichiro stared at Belle for several seconds, trying to figure out how she could possibly understand things about him that he didn't even really understand. "Maybe."

"You could do that, you know . . . charity cases . . . People who can't afford the reconstructive surgeries for themselves. Wouldn't your uncle underwrite your work? It'd be charitable donations. I'll bet Daddy would do it, too."

"And what is it you want, princess?" he asked, filing away the things she'd said. He'd think about it later.

Belle laughed and shook her head. "I don't know. There are a lot of things that interest me. I haven't made up my mind."

"Such as?"

"Such as . . . I thought about being a school teacher. Sounds boring, doesn't it? 'Miss Zelig' . . . that's funny . . ."

"What else?"

She shrugged. "Well, when I was little, I wanted to be a fairy princess . . . I outgrew that, of course."

"Of course," he agreed.

"Then there was the Ballerina Barbie phase. It also did not last long."

"You wanted to be a Barbie doll?"

"Not just any Barbie: Ballerina Barbie . . . until I discovered that I wasn't patient or dedicated enough to study ballet and make it my lifelong ambition."

"Okay, so the fairy princess and the Ballerina Barbie are out. What else?"

"Hmm . . . I went through an artistic phase . . . made some of the most God-awful macaroni picture frames, ever . . . you should ask Daddy about that. He kept them, of course."

"Of course."

"Then there was the stunt woman phase until I realized I'd have to wear panties."

"Which would be a travesty."

"Uh huh. Oh, and the Igor stage."

"The what?"

She giggled. "The Igor stage . . . I wanted to be a lab rat. It seemed interesting, poking around in someone's DNA . . . running tests and making predictions . . . Then I figured out that the lab coats were entirely unflattering . . ."

He grinned. "Well, you wouldn't have to wear a lab coat . . . or maybe you could get one in violet or something . . ."

"Are you saying you think I'd make a good Igor?"

"Maybe . . . to the right researcher, of course."

She seemed to be thinking about something, and she slowly shook her head before commenting. "A researcher like . . . you?"

His smile widened. "Maybe."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_Extra thanks to angelica incarnate for her knowledge of New York City theatre. Extra thanks to spookeymelichan for her knowledge of carriage rides through Central Park … O.O … Lol_!

_Currency conversion: Current market rate, 11,176,000 yen is roughly $100,000.00_.

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**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Igor, huh _…

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_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	49. More Than Just Friends

**_Lime Warning_**

_This is supposed to be a lime chapter; however THIS is the 'clean' version of the chapter, for those who don't care for the lime. If you want to read the lime, it isn't posted here. according to their TOS, will not allow the posting of Adult Rated Materials, so if you want to read the lime/lemon, see MY BIO ON MY AUTHOR PAGE. There is a link to my fanfics on Media Miner, where the lemons are posted. If you have trouble, you might have to adjust the settings to see ALL rated fics, as Media Miner is set to default at PG-13_.

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**_Chapter 49_**

**_More Than Just Friends

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_**

Gin stared in the full-length mirror with a pensive scowl as she turned from side to side and stared at her reflection.

The sheer fabric of the dress seemed a little more revealing than it had been in the store, or maybe it was simply her imagination. Either way, her lacy pink bra was as terribly visible, and since she'd already tried white and tan, she was giving up hope on that front.

'_I've gone without a bra before_,' Gin thought as she unhooked the fasteners. '_It won't be that bad_ . . .'

No, it wasn't the bra question that bothered her most. It was that the same plaguing facet that prevented her wearing a bra was also holding quite true with her panties . . . The bright multi-shaded blue polka-dot panties that she was wearing to start with were a definite no-no. The white lacy ones she'd tried next were little more than a fashion faux pas. Every single pair she tried on seemed to show up worse than the last ones. Gin was running out of hope, running out of panties, and starting to seriously consider the idea of leaving them off, altogether.

'_I can't really do that, can I? I mean, not wearing my panties? That can't be a good idea_ . . .'

'_Well, doll, you could wear them, but I'm afraid you'll look a little ridiculous. I mean, you saw for yourself, the panties look bad . . . besides that, you've seen Cain's artwork_.'

Gin tugged on the dress and grimaced as it fell back into place. No matter how she stood, her panties showed. Cain was going to laugh at her, she just knew it . . .

'_Of course I have_,' she thought absently, pulling out the skirt and letting go again, as though repeating the action would change the result. She sighed when it didn't work.

'_Cain paints and sculpts naked women all the time. Do you really think that he never uses live models? Even if he didn't, he obviously knows what a woman's body looks like, and you'll be wearing something, which is better than most of his subjects_.'

That was true, she had to admit. Cain's art tended to focus on women in varying stages of undress, and while some were clothed in something, most were not. She bit her lip. '_It won't seem . . . bad?_'

'_Gin, how often have you insisted that you're not a baby anymore? You're not posing naked, and you want him to paint you, right? If you go over there and tell him that you can't pose because he might see your panties . . . He won't just laugh at you. He might start thinking you really are still a pup, after all, don't you think?_'

Gin bit her lip and wrung her hands, the very idea of what she was considering bringing a painful flush to her skin as she gathered her courage. Grasping her panties as she drew a deep breath, Gin pulled them off and stood back up as the gauzy dress fell back into place. The panty lines were gone, and to her relief only the vaguest shadows could be discerned. There was no way he'd be able to see anything, not really, and with a soft giggle as she shook her head at her own ridiculous worries, Gin glanced at the wings, carefully set out on the bed.

She still felt bare, though, and that wasn't good . . . She only had to go next door to Cain's apartment. Still the idea of stepping foot outside her door in this dress and without a bra or panties wasn't something she could even consider as she grabbed her robe off the bed. She needed Cain's help with the wings anyway. It would just have to do.

'_At least I don't have to pinch my cheeks or anything to give them some color_,' she thought with a silly little giggle as she grabbed the wings and squared her shoulders, shaking her hair back as she took another deep breath to calm her rapidly fraying nerves. '_I wonder what Cain will think of this dress_ . . .'

She'd almost forgotten that he wanted to paint her this weekend. After lunch with L'amont-san the day before, Cain had been rather quiet. He hadn't asked what they'd talked about though Gin suspected he really wanted to know. In the end, he seemed content to let it go unsaid, and if he wasn't going to bring it up, then she wasn't about to, either. They rented a couple Disney movies on the way home from the restaurant. It wasn't until the second one was nearly over that Cain had remarked that she needed her rest so she would look her best while he sketched her for the painting.

"_You still want to?" Gin asked as she rolled off his lap and stood up_.

"_Don't you want me to?_"

_She grinned as she rose on tiptoe with her arms thrust over her head to stretch. "Of course I do!" she insisted. "It's not every day that great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, and ferocious North America tai-youkai, Cain Zelig says he wants to paint me_."

"_You're still forgetting one very important word," he complained as he stood up and shut off the television_.

"_I'm not forgetting a thing," she argued_.

_He sighed then laughed as he took her hand and led the way to the bedroom_.

_That was her favorite thing; the nights. It seemed like she always tried to stay on the other side of the bed. She always lay down beside him, and the first few times she'd woken up to find herself draped all over Cain, she'd been rather embarrassed. Unsure how he'd feel about that, Gin tried not to do it again, but every morning she woke up wrapped around him. He hadn't complained about it, ever_.

_She'd begun to suspect that he liked it as much as she did. She could have sworn that he'd reached over, pulled her close just before she'd drifted off to sleep. It wasn't clear to her. Being half asleep, she wasn't positive if he really had done that or if she just thought he did. Either way, she was sprawled across his chest this morning, fingers tangled in his hair with his arms wrapped around her, the air peaceful, his light breathing the only sound in the quiet_.

Shaking off the reverie, Gin glanced in the mirror one last time. '_It'll be fine_,' she scoffed at her own sensibilities. '_It's just one picture. Not many people can say that Cain painted them for their birthday, right? Maybe I am special to him then . . . at least a little special, anyway_ . . .'

She left Cain's door unlocked when she'd run home to change. It was still unlocked. Gin let herself inside and glanced around the apartment. Cain was nowhere to be seen. '_He's probably getting stuff set up_,' she mused as she slowly moved toward the short hallway and his makeshift studio.

Sure enough, he was setting up a couple standing lights and a rather large metal fan. Gin hovered in the doorway, unsure if she ought to interrupt him or not. He'd removed his shirt and was adjusting the lights, flicking them on to see where the shadows fell before turning them off to adjust them again.

"I'm almost ready for you," he said without turning around. "If you've got to go to the bathroom or anything, you'd better to do it now. I'm a slave-driver, you know. You won't be getting any pity-breaks for at least an hour or two."

She giggled at his gruff tone since she could tell he was teasing. "I'm okay," she told him. "I need help with the wings, though . . ."

"All right. Hold on. I've almost got the lights set."

Gin set the wings against the table and bit her lip before shrugging off the robe and straightening her dress. Cain turned around and glanced at her only to look back again with an inscrutable expression. He stood still as stone for several agonizing moments. Gin shifted from one foot to the other, unable to read just what he was thinking . . .

"That's . . . the dress . . .?"

She nodded. "You . . . You don't like it?"

He shook his head. "No, it's not that . . . I like it a lot."

Gin toyed with the gossamer cap sleeves and shrugged. "It matched the wings . . ."

"Wings . . ."

She took the wings and walked over to Cain. He took them from her as she turned around to let him fasten them to her back, and she wondered why his hands were shaking.

"All right," he said after clearing his throat. "Just . . . over there . . ."

Gin took her place where Cain had indicated. He flipped on the lights without looking at her as he hurried over to the fan and turned it on, too.

Sitting down behind his worktable as he took his time sharpening his pencil and flipping through his sketchpad till he found a clean piece of paper, he drew a deep breath and ducked his chin as he slowly, almost hesitantly, lifted his gaze to her.

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'_Dear God in heaven, what is she trying to do to us?_' 

Cain stifled a groan and stared, unable to look away to save his life as Gin gnawed on her lip and shifted from one foot to the other. Hair blowing back in the fabricated air of the fan, her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright, and in the harsh lights he used to chase away shadows, the already thin fabric of the translucent gown seemed to dissolve around Gin like a wisp of a cloud, like the edges of a dream, like an angel come to earth. The wind molded the dress to her frame, revealing every curve and contour. She hid nothing from him, and in those moments, in those breaths, Cain felt his resolve slipping away.

Nervously twisting her hair around her finger, Gin's ears flattened for a moment as rosy cheeks pinked a little more. Forcing his eyes back to the blank paper, Cain couldn't comprehend where to even begin. She was too tiny, too perfect, too stunning to capture on canvas. For the first time in his life, Cain wasn't sure if he could draw a model in such a way that he could reproduce the essence of her, and this image, this woman . . . Gin was far too important to fail.

The pencil wasn't right.

Dropping the graphite pencil onto the table before stumbling to his feet and striding to the closet, Cain rummaged through the plastic supply bins until he found what he was looking for. He rarely used the amber pencils. For some reason, they seemed right. Gin was far too delicate for the harsh darkness of lead. The added softness of the reddish-brown shades would be better to sketch her.

He sat back down and drew a deep breath, staring at her through a more critical eye. "Lift your chin," he told her quietly. "Hold your hands out just a little."

She did as she was instructed. Cain swallowed hard and tried to convince himself that she was just a model, just a face. He'd sketched her a hundred times since he'd first met her. Every one of the sketches was familiar to him. The dress and the wings transformed her, adding a wistfulness and whimsy to the woman he knew so well. '_God, she's . . . beautiful_ . . .'

'_Yeah, she is_.'

The soft scratch of the amber pencil drummed in his head with the quiet hum of the fan. His hand moved without conscious thought, danced over the paper with a will all its own. He could hear her sighs, feel her youki pulsing with the beat of her heart. He'd never been so closely attuned to another living soul like he was with Gin---not even with Isabelle. Bitter certainties whispered in his mind, words that he didn't want to acknowledge, truths that he couldn't deny.

'_She's the one, Cain . . . you know it's true. Gin's the one you should have waited for_.'

Ignoring the voice that droned on and on, trying to forget the things that could not be undone, Cain willed the thoughts away, determined not to think, determined not to think or feel . . . to do nothing but sketch the girl before him.

'_Don't feel? Better to tell yourself not to breathe. It'd be easier, wouldn't it?_'

'_Shut up_,' he thought as he shook his head and tightened his grip on the pencil. '_I can't think about that; not now _. . .'

'_But you know it's true, and you hate yourself for that. You want to give her everything in the world, don't you? You want to shelter and protect her. You want to hold her and love her. She's everything you've ever wanted, everything you've ever needed_ . . .'

'_I_ _promised everything I have to Isabelle, and as much as I wish that I hadn't_ . . . '

'_But you didn't, you know! You really didn't . . . If you turn away from Gin . . . Can you do that to her? Can you do that to yourself?_'

Cain sighed and rubbed his smudged hand over his eyes. '_I know. Don't say it. Just . . . don't say it_.'

'_If not me, then who? If not now, then when? You didn't listen to me twenty years ago. Are you ever going to start?_'

'_It's too late for that, damn it. You know that; I know that. I can't undo anything. I can't change what happened, can I?_'

'_But why do you think you have to?_'

'_I don't. I told you; I can't change a thing_.'

'_And you're trying to anyway. You don't see that? Listen, Cain, what happened to Isabelle . . . It was horrible, it was tragic . . . But meeting Gin . . . do you really think that was simple coincidence?_'

'_I . . . I don't know_ . . .'

"Cain?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

His hand was shaking, hovering over the sketchpad. Cain blinked and scowled at the half-done image. "It's fine," he told her, unable to keep the irritation out of his tone. "I'm fine."

"O-okay," Gin replied. He glanced up at her to find her staring back at him with a troubled frown. "If you're sure."

He forced a smile, trying not to let his gaze fall below her neck. "Fairies don't frown," he said.

And she smiled, just for him. Thin and fragile and full of compassion, she smiled as though she understood the thoughts that plagued him. His throat felt as though it were closing up. He swallowed hard and nodded.

"Why do you look like that?" she asked softly.

"Look like what?"

She shrugged and winced, hair billowing out around her, the silvery strands caught on the fingers of a breeze. "You look like you just lost your best friend."

Cain forced a hollow laugh, dropping his gaze to the sketch once more. "Don't be ridiculous. You're my best friend, right? You're right here, so I certainly didn't lose you."

Her laughter was warm, cosseting the frazzled edges of raw emotion. "I'm your best friend? Really?"

"Aren't you?"

"That's nice . . . I like it . . . best friends . . ."

"Gin?"

"Yes?"

He cleared his throat when he lifted his gaze only to see every curve of her hips, of her breasts. The shadows of her nipples were outlined with the sheer fabric, and he couldn't seem to look away from her.

'_Hell, she's_ . . .'

'_Come on, Cain, you dog! You're supposed to be sketching her, not thinking about_ that.'

'_I know; I know . . . but damn it_ . . . Look _at her, will you?_'

'_You think I haven't been?_'

'_I'm going to die. She's going to kill me_ . . .'

'. . . _Bumps, indeed_ . . .'

'_Yeah_,' Cain agreed as he finally managed to shift his gaze away from her breasts. '_Those . . . those aren't bumps, not at all _. . .'

'_Nope . . . definitely handfuls, Cain. You were right about that_ . . .'

Cain heaved a sigh and tightened his grip on the pencil. If he lived through this little odyssey, he'd be truly amazed . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"All right," Cain said as he dropped the amber pencil onto the sketchpad with a heavy sigh. 

"That's it?" Gin asked, letting her hands drop and rolling her head from side to side. She'd been standing still for nearly two hours. She'd thought it would take longer.

"Yep," he told her. "You'd better put your robe back on. You look . . . a little cold."

She frowned at the strange tone underlying his words. He was staring at the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, and he had yet to stand up or even look at her. "Is something wrong?" she asked as she stepped out from under the warmth of the lights and away from the cold air generated by the fan.

"Wrong? Huh? No . . . not a thing . . ."

"Can I see the sketch?" she asked as she stepped around the table, stopping beside him and leaning on his shoulder.

Cain scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. "All right," he agreed. "If you really want to . . ."

He scooted the sketch pad toward her. Gin tilted her head to the side and scowled at the image. It was stunning, actually. Rendered in bold lines that were tamed by the expert curves and angles of Cain's work, Gin stared at the picture, trying to come to terms with what she saw. She didn't look short or babyish. She didn't look tiny or resemble a little girl. Every line, every plane of her body was there, scratched onto the paper, and yet it didn't make her as uncomfortable as it might have. '_Is that how he sees me? Is it really?_' He'd drawn her with a grace and elegance that Gin didn't see in herself, and as she ran her claw over the outline, she slowly shook her head. "Cain? Are you sure that's me?"

Cain looked confused. "Of course it is."

"I don't look . . . I don't know . . . like a little girl. I don't look short or silly or . . ."

"Gin, I've told you, you're not a little girl. Why would I draw you as one when that's not how I see you?"

"But . . ."

He sighed and shook his head, frowning at her for a moment before slowly standing up and taking her hand to lead her from the room and down the hallway. Stopping in front of his empty bedroom, he pulled Gin inside, maneuvering her with his hands on her shoulders until she was standing before the floor length mirror. Carefully unfastening the wings and setting them aside, Cain stood behind her, lifted her chin, forced her to look at herself. "Gin . . . you're . . . beautiful; do you see?"

She tried to pull away from him as an embarrassed blush suffused her skin. He didn't let go. "Cain . . ."

"Nope, you're not going anywhere. I'm tired of you saying that you're not beautiful because you _are_. I don't want you comparing yourself to anyone or thinking that you're not every bit as gorgeous as any other woman. It's not true. It's never _been_ true. You're more . . . more . . . _everything_. Do you understand?"

His tone was angry, but his words were kind. Gin stared in the mirror, lifted her gaze to meet his. The fierceness in his eyes startled her as he slowly shook his head. A thousand emotions flickered through his stare. Gone before she could begin to comprehend them all, he looked like he was battling something that she couldn't see. "But I'm not . . . tall or graceful or---"

"Stop it," he growled. "Just stop."

She shook her head, her gaze clouding in confusion. Cain stifled a groan and closed his eyes, as though he needed a moment to gather his scattered thoughts. Maybe he did because when he opened his eyes, the indecision was gone, replaced by an intense burn, a fire that frightened her and thrilled her at the same time. "Damn it, Gin . . . You don't know, do you? You have no idea what you do to me?"

Her heart stopped for the briefest of moments before slamming hard into her ribcage. His words were more potent than she could have ever imagined, and she stared, transfixed, as he carefully slipped the dress off her shoulders. It caught on the rise of her breasts. His ragged breath rippled over her skin as he pushed the material down. Swollen nipples puckering at the sheer fabric brushed against them, Gin whimpered quietly. She could feel her legs shake, her entire body quivering as she struggled to remain standing. Cain uttered a terse growl that reassured her as his hands slipped down her sides, catching the dress gathered around her hips and pushing it down where it pooled around her feet in a whisper of gossamer. "Look at yourself, baby girl," Cain rasped out in a barely audible voice. "I want you, you know, like I've never wanted any other woman before."

Gin gasped as he tilted her head to the side, as his mouth closed over the soft contour of her throat. Fangs grazing over her as he wrapped his arms around her, Cain pulled her flush against his body, cradled her against his heart. Hands rising to cross over her belly, claws dragging against tender flesh, his fingers danced over her nipples as Gin's knees buckled. She couldn't watch what he was doing to her as his hands closed over her breasts. It was enough that she could feel it, feel everything about him. Unprepared for the torrent of sheer sensation, she couldn't even remember that she needed to breathe. Strength in motion, beauty veiled in the wash of discovery, a thousand explosive tremors shot through her body.

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

The next thing she knew, she was slowly opening her eyes. Cuddled against Cain's chest, held in the crook of his arm, he stroked her hair, smiled at her, kissed her forehead as he held her close. "Cain?"

He chuckled softly, pulled her just a little closer. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and his hair was damp. "You all right, baby girl?"

She nodded slowly as she frowned in confusion. "How did you get all wet?"

"You must have passed out or fell asleep. I took a shower. That's all."

"Oh . . ."

"Are you tired?" he asked gently.

Gin shook her head. "No . . . That was really . . ."

He sighed when she faltered, squeezing her as he kissed her forehead again. "Yeah, it was," he agreed.

She frowned and leaned up on her shoulder. He pulled the sheet up to cover her. "Did we . . .? We didn't . . . We're not . . ."

Cain's smile faltered, and he dragged his hand over his face with a sigh. "I didn't mate you," he told her. "I wouldn't . . . I couldn't . . ." He shook his head. "Even if I could, I wouldn't just do that."

She nodded slowly, digesting that for a moment before smiling shyly and daring a glance at him. He was staring at her with an unreadable expression. She reached up to soothe away the furrows between his eyebrows. "Cain, can I ask you something?"

He caught her hand and brought her knuckles to her lips. "Of course."

She drew a deep breath, gathering her courage to ask the one thing that she desperately needed to know. "What . . . are we, exactly?"

Grimacing when Cain winced, Gin wished she could take back her question. "Do we have to define it? Can it just be enough that we're . . . together?"

Gin bit her lip and forced a smile. She could tell from the look on his face that he could see right through it. "Yeah . . . you're right. We're friends. Friends . . . don't need to put labels on each other."

He looked like he wanted to say something. Gin lay back down and squeezed her eyes closed, pressed her cheek against his chest, willed the steady rhythm of his heart to soothe her.

In the end, he sighed and gathered her close. Gin could feel the sadness that he was trying so desperately to hide from her.

'_Friends?_' her youkai echoed dubiously.

'_Yes, friends . . . maybe a little more than just friends_ . . .'

'_That's not really all it is. You've got to know that, don't you?_'

'_He's . . . he's my mate, isn't he?_'

'_Listen, doll_ . . .'

She smiled and blinked quickly. '_It's okay . . . Maybe I can make him want to live_.'

'_Do you think it'll be that simple?_'

Gin hugged Cain tight. '_Yes, it is. Sure, it is_.'

At least, she hoped it would be . . .

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

… _Wow _…!

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	50. The Big Apple

**_Chapter 50_**

**_The Big Apple

* * *

_**

Belle yawned and stretched as she shuffled out of her room into the living room of the hotel suite. Vaguely surprised that Kichiro was already awake, she blinked and rubbed her eyes as he glanced up from the _New York Times_ long enough to nod at the rolling cart laden with food. "Knock yourself out, princess," he told her as he shook out the paper and lifted it to cover his face.

Belle took her time poking through the various dishes. "This is a lot of food," she told him. "Did you order one of everything?"

Kichiro peeked around the paper. "Nope."

Belle brought over the pot of coffee and refilled his nearly empty cup. "You didn't? Are you sure?"

Stubbornly refusing to look, he groped for the coffee cup and drained it. "Yep . . . just ordered everything that sounded like it had a lot of sugar in it."

She giggled and poured him another cup before setting the pot down and grabbing a cinnamon roll along with the little silver pitcher of maple syrup.

Kichiro folded up the paper and set it aside, face contorting in abject disgust as he watched Belle tear off a piece of roll and dip the frosted bit into the syrup before popping it into her mouth. "Gah, just drink the syrup, why don't you?"

Belle stared at the pitcher like she really was considering it. Kichiro sat up to grab it out of her hand. She was too quick for him.

"I wasn't serious!"

"I know . . . neither was I."

That didn't stop her from dipping the rest of her roll into the syrup. He suppressed a shudder and silently drank the rest of his coffee.

"So what's the plan for the day?" Belle asked, dusting her hands off after popping the last of the roll into her mouth.

"Shopping . . . a little sight-seeing . . . and plans for the evening."

"Oh? What could possibly top _La Traviata_?"

He grinned. "You'll see, princess. You'd better get dressed, don't you think?"

Belle made a face and scooted off the table. "I should have sent my dress to be washed last night," she commented as she wrinkled her nose.

"What? The one you wore to travel in?"

She nodded. "What other one would there be? As much as I adore the gown, I can't wear that all over New York City . . ."

Kichiro crossed his arms over his chest and tried unsuccessfully to hide his grin. "Are you telling me you didn't look in your closet?"

She shook her head. "No, I didn't . . ."

"Maybe you should."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I dunno . . . maybe the dress fairy paid you a visit while you were refusing to get out of the tub."

His ears flattened as Belle unleashed an unearthly squeal and ran off toward her room. The squeal sounded again when she threw open her closet only to find three casual dresses waiting for her.

'_They're all purple, Belle . . . did you notice that?_'

Belle tilted her head to the side and grinned to herself. '_So they are_ . . .'

'_That's his color, isn't it?_'

Her grin widened a little as she selected a dress. '_So it is_.'

'_Not very subtle, is he?_'

Belle shrugged as she dropped the robe and slipped the dress over her feet, pulling it up over her hips before she stuck her arms into the cap sleeves. '_Strange, really_,' she mused as she reached around to zip the dress, '_I don't mind wearing his color_ . . .'

Pausing long enough to run her brush through her hair, Belle was about to dash out the door again when she spotted the jewelry. She'd been so bemused last night by the time they returned from their night on the town, Belle hadn't paid much attention as she took off the gown and left the jewelry on the bureau. Scooping it up, she untangled the necklace and held it up, but stopped short with a soft gasp as she stared in mute shock at the single earring in her palm.

Carefully backtracking as she inspected the path she'd taken, Belle knelt on the floor in her room to peer under the bureau in case it had fallen.

'_Oh, no_ . . .' she thought as she bit her lip and glanced around, shaking the necklace as though she believed that the missing earring was simply tangled in with it. '_No, no, no, no, no_ . . .'

The prophetic conversation from the night before replayed in her head as Belle reached under the dresser, praying that she simply hadn't seen the earring despite her hanyou vision.

"_I can't . . . what if I lose them? What if we get mugged?_"

"_It's fine, Belle. If they get stolen, there's always insurance. If they get lost . . . just don't lose them, okay?_"

"_Oh, no_ . . ."

"_I'll make you a deal. You concentrate on having a good time, and I'll worry about the jewelry._"

"_Trust me, princess_."

"_Okay_."

She winced as panic started to rise, choking her as she started to force herself to her feet, determined to scour every single place they'd been last night, if she had to . . .

"_Just don't lose them, okay?_"

She whimpered softly, dreading the thought of explaining that she really had done the unthinkable.

'_He's going to yell at me . . . He's going to tell me I was careless, and . . . oh . . . he'll be right_ . . .'

"What are you doing down there?"

Belle grimaced and hesitantly lifted her gaze to meet Kichiro's puzzled expression. "I . . . I . . ." She couldn't say it. Shaking her head as she held out her hands, she waited miserably as Kichiro knelt beside her and lifted the necklace and solitary earring off her palm. "I'm sorry," she choked as tears sprang to her eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have worn them . . . I knew---"

"You lost an earring?" he asked in an even tone.

Belle sniffled and nodded, chin dropping as she stared at her hands. "I'm sorry."

He sighed and closed his hand around the remaining jewelry. "It's all right. Don't worry about it. Maybe someone'll find it."

"You're not . . . going to y-yell at me?"

"No . . . wouldn't do any good, anyway."

"But I was stupid and careless and cl-clumsy, and you're just making m-me feel worse by being so n-nice!"

Kichiro sighed again and shook his head, awkwardly wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Don't cry," he told her. "It's just an earring. They'll just charge my credit card. It's not a big deal."

"My daddy will pay for it," she told him. "I know he will . . . after he kills me."

"No, he won't. Listen, when I arranged to borrow them from the jeweler, it was with the understanding that I'd pay for them, should anything happen. Don't worry about it, okay? I knew the risks. It's not worth crying over."

"But---"

"I mean it. Are you going to let this ruin the rest of your weekend?"

Belle wiped her cheeks and sniffled.

"Come on. We'll drop these by the front desk. They'll lock them in their safe till we check out."

"What?"

Kichiro looked away and sighed again. He looked a little peeved but not nearly as much as she figured he should. "It's a matched set, princess. Kind of a three for one deal."

"You mean . . . you have to buy the necklace too? Because of me?"

He winced at the panic rising in her tone again, and he shot her a fierce scowl. "I told you; I knew the risks. Consider it . . . your birthday present for the next . . . hundred years."

"And you're not mad . . .? Because I'd be furious at me . . ."

"I'm not mad," he told her, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. "Come on. The taxi's probably waiting for us."

"You really are a nice man," she murmured, tugging on his hand to stop him.

Kichiro cleared his throat and scowled at the wall. "No, I'm not, Belle-chan. Why don't you go rinse your face off before we go?"

She nodded and hesitated before bracing herself on his shoulder, rising upon her toes to kiss his cheek. She didn't see the grimace on Kichiro's face. She didn't see the way his ears flattened as she hurried toward the bathroom.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain lay awake well into the night, staring at the ceiling with Gin cuddled in his arms. 

'_What the hell was I thinking? How could I have let that happen?_'

The silence echoed in his ears, and he gritted his teeth. Searching for answers written in the darkness was a futile endeavor.

How selfish was he? Had he thought at all about what he was doing? He wasn't even going to try to delude himself into believing that what they'd shared would mean nothing to Gin. He knew her too well to try to think otherwise. That was one of the reasons he was drawn to her, in the first place. She was always completely sincere. Gin didn't know how to lie. She didn't know how to be vengeful. She didn't know how to play games.

She stirred in his arms, cuddled closer in her sleep. Snuggling against him with a contented sigh, she comforted him and tormented him by turns. Emotion that should have stayed dormant washed through him with a vindictive brutality. That feeling that he didn't dare name . . .

'_So long as I don't mate her_,' he told himself for the hundredth time. '_She's strong, right? She's a fighter . . . Gin . . . as long as I don't mate her_ . . .'

That was the trick, wasn't it? It would be all right so long as he didn't make her his mate. Without that, the final bond wouldn't form, would it? Wasn't that the key? Even then, he'd mated Isabelle and lived through it, as painful as that had been. As long as the formal bond wasn't forged, Gin would be safe . . . She had to be.

And the worst of it? Instead of satisfying the base need to have her, being with her had only served to make him want her more. Her reactions, her wonder, her own hunger had only fueled his more. While he should be berating himself and hating himself just a little bit more, the warmth of Gin's body, the absolute trust in her childlike innocence beckoned him.

So why couldn't he stomach the idea of walking away from her? Why did the very idea of her moving on, of her finding someone worthy of her gentle smiles and giddy laughter make him want to tear the faceless stranger limb from limb? Years from now, after Cain had long since faded from Gin's memory . . . he couldn't stand the thought of someone else touching her, of someone else making her smile.

There had been so many years when he'd felt so alone, so empty in a part of him that even Bellaniece had never been able to fill. If he wanted to be completely honest with himself, that void had always been there, even when Isabelle was still alive. It was there before her, it remained long after, and suddenly . . .

Gin filled that spot completely, unwittingly. The emptiness that he'd learned to live with . . . Having to go back, having to feel that emptiness all over again . . . Cain wasn't sure if he could do that.

"Cain?"

"Hey," he said as he lifted his head to gaze at the barely awake hanyou. "Did I wake you?"

She shook her head and burrowed closer against him. "No . . . are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Hmm, I don't know . . ." she mumbled. "You were quiet all evening."

"I wasn't quiet . . . you were extra talkative."

"Was I?"

He smiled despite his bleak thoughts. "Yeah, you were."

"I'll do something nice for you tomorrow," she decided just before she yawned again.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

She squirmed around, leaning up long enough to kiss his cheek before nestling against him once more. "I'll make you a special cake," she muttered. "A big one . . . huge."

"You do that, baby girl."

"Hmm."

She fell silent again. Cain was starting to think she was sleeping when she rolled over and leaned up on her elbow, staring at him with a thoughtful frown. "Cain? When we . . . when you . . . when I . . ." She made a face as her cheeks reddened. "Did you . . .?"

"Did I . . . 'enjoy' myself?" he asked slowly, carefully choosing his words so as not to further her embarrassment.

She nodded, her cheeks a deep shade of red as she scowled at the arm holding the sheet over her breasts. "Yeah."

He chuckled. "What do you think the shower was for?"

Her eyes flared wide as her mouth formed a perfect little 'o'. "You mean you . . .? Oh . . . Should I have . . .? I mean, like what you did only---"

"It was fine, Gin, I promise. Besides, you were . . . not completely coherent at the time, anyway."

She grinned and cuddled against him again. "Good. I'm glad . . . I . . . _enjoyed_ myself, too."

He chuckled again, wrapping his arms more securely around her. "I know you did . . . multiple times."

"_Cain_," she scolded, burying her face against his chest.

He laughed. "No need to be embarrassed. What we did . . . It was . . . perfect."

"It . . . was?"

Cain smoothed her hair and sighed, allowing himself to admit that much to himself---to her. "Yeah, it was."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Why'd you do that?" Belle demanded. Her tone was irritated but her eyes were shining. Kichiro figured that she was putting up a fuss because it was the proper thing to do. 

"Put a lid on it, wench. I wanted to, and since it's my weekend, then you just have to deal with it. Got that?"

"But I didn't need that dress!" she insisted as she followed Kichiro into Saks Fifth Avenue. "You've bought me more than enough clothes, don't you think? And why is it that they're all purple?"

"I'll let you know when I've bought you enough clothes," he informed her as he grabbed her hand and led her toward the escalator. "And they're _violet_, not _purple_, thank you very much."

"Violet; purple . . . potato, potahto . . . It's all the same thing, isn't it?"

"Nice try, princess. It's not, you know."

"What are we after in here?" she asked as she stared around the posh department store.

"Clothes you can wear for training."

She opened her mouth to argue. Kichiro shook his head. "Pictures, Belle, remember? Fair is fair is fair."

"That's really not fair," she pointed out. "How was I supposed to know that Gin would decide to share them?"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear your complaints but I don't really care."

She heaved a sigh but gave up arguing with him, at least for the moment.

Belle wandered into the Lila Russeau section, one of the latest trendy designers who tended to cater to teenagers with more casual wear than the designers that Belle normally paid attention to. Though Belle rarely bothered checking out Lila's designs, if Kichiro was going to insist that she pick up some barbaric clothes, then she could at least have designer barbaric clothing, at that.

Her cell phone rang. Kichiro had given it back after the threat of her using it to complain to her father had passed. Belle hit the 'talk' button and held it to her ear as Kichiro shuffled through a rack of baby-t's. "Hi, Daddy!" she greeted, plugging her free ear since the connection was suffering a little interference.

"Bellaniece? Where are you? The connection's really bad."

Belle giggled. "I'm in New York City! Dr. Izayoi needed to do some shopping, so he brought me here for the weekend!"

"Oh, God . . . you'd better total everything up and tell me before the Visa bill comes," he warned.

"It's not like that, Daddy! Dr. Izayoi's bought me a few things, but I swear I've been good . . ."

"Yeah . . . Bellaniece, your idea of good and mine are bound to be light years apart."

"If I was good by your standards, does that mean I get more presents for my birthday?"

Cain snorted. "We'll see."

Belle giggled. "So how are things there? Do you miss me at all?"

"Of course I miss you, and things are fine . . ."

"Good! How's your cake fairy?" she asked, hoping she sounded more casual than she suspected she did.

Cain paused. "Gin? Gin's good. Gin's great. Gin's . . ." he trailed off, and when he spoke again, Belle could tell that he'd covered the phone with his hand. "Hey! What are you doing up there? You're going to fall, you know."

Gin's muffled giggle could be discerned in the background. Belle's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Daddy? Anything going on you should tell me about?"

"Nope," Cain answered, uncovering the receiver. "Gin's just got the dexterity of a cat . . . a drunk cat . . ."

"Did you just dog me?" Gin demanded.

"Woof."

"Oh, my . . ." Belle remarked. "I'll let you go now, Daddy . . . Have fun, but don't do anything I wouldn't do . . ."

She hung up before her father could chastise her for her cheek. She was smiling as she slipped the phone back into her purse.

"What do you think?" Kichiro asked, holding up a t-shirt for her inspection.

Belle's smile widened as she read the words on the lilac colored shirt. "Princess?" she asked with a shake of her head. "That's perfect---for a barbaric shirt. Isn't that one a little small?"

Kichiro eyed the shirt closely and shook his head. "Nope."

"It looks small," she informed him.

"It's supposed to be small," he told her. "This one's perfect for Gin . . . I should get it for her since I missed her birthday."

Belle giggled as Kichiro showed her the light pink shirt with 'Baby girl' scrawled across the chest in silver glittery lettering. "Are you going to get things for the rest of your family?"

He shrugged. "Do I have to?"

"It'd be the nice thing to do."

He snorted. "Yeah, I'll give it some thought." Grabbing a couple pairs of stretch waist sports shorts that made Belle wrinkle her nose, Kichiro checked his watch and jerked his head toward the register. "We have to get moving. We need to go back to the hotel and change. We've got reservations in two hours."

"Oh, those are cute!" Belle commented as they passed a display with keychain crystal watches on display.

Kichiro spared them a glance. "Okay. Grab the ones you want, and let's go."

"I didn't mean---" Belle began.

Kichiro rolled his eyes and grabbed about ten of the multicolored watches. Belle grimaced. He'd been doing that all day, and she'd been more careful about commenting on things since he was set on buying her everything she even casually glanced at for more than a few seconds. The watches were just a silly fad, and these were more expensive than most. Talking him out of them wouldn't work, she knew. With a soft sigh and a little smile, she waited for him to pay for the items.

'_You'd think he was the one who lost a more-than-thousand dollar earring_,' she mused.

'_Yeah . . . strange, isn't it?_'

Belle frowned. That was a little strange, come to think of it. He'd been bending over backward, or so it seemed, ever since they left the hotel. '_Maybe_,' she thought with a slight shake of her head, '_maybe he felt bad because I was crying_ . . .'

He hadn't said much as he gave the jewel case to the concierge to lock away in the hotel safe. Kichiro had seemed almost awkward, like he felt guilty about something, but Belle wasn't sure why. Maybe he thought that it was his own fault for insisting that Belle wear the jewelry to the opera. She hoped he wasn't sorry for borrowing them, even if she would understand if that were the case. Having to buy the necklace as well as the earrings was probably putting a strain on his bank account.

She frowned. That couldn't be right. He'd spent an outrageous sum of money since then. She tried not to feel too guilty about that. She'd tried to tell him that she didn't need all the things he'd purchased for her . . .

Then again, maybe he didn't completely trust hotel security, not that Belle blamed him for that. Though the Regent Laurient, the city's newest luxury hotel, was touted as being state-of-the art, nothing was completely safe, after all . . .

Still she brushed the feelings aside, certain that she was imagining things. Kichiro was just being nice. He never did like it when she cried.

He took his credit card from the cashier and shot Belle an almost timid smile. She hurried over to him, slipped her hand into his. He grinned at her and squeezed her hand before escorting her to the escalator once more.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Just what on earth were Daddy and Gin doing_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	51. Last Chances

**_Chapter 51_**

**_Last Chances

* * *

_**

"Not on your life, princess."

Belle rolled her eyes and smiled, tugging on Kichiro's hand as he leaned back, determined not to so much as step into the store. "Oh, come on! It won't be that bad," she coaxed, pinning him with her most winning smile.

Kichiro snorted and made a face. "Feh! I don't think so."

"All right," she gave up, shrugging as she heaved a long-suffering sigh. "If you won't go in with me, then I won't make you. Far be it for me to try to force you to do something you don't want to do, even if it would _really_ make me happy . . ."

"Oh, for the love of . . . All right!" he grumbled, throwing his hands up in the air as Belle grinned happily and grabbed his hand to drag him into the second-hand store in the middle of Greenwich Village. "I can't believe you're making me go into a second-hand store," he complained. "I don't do second-hand, wench . . . just so you know . . ."

"There're fabulous things in second-hand stores," Belle argued as they stepped into the dimly lit shop. The girl behind the counter popped her gum and spared them a glance before turning her attention back to the music magazine in her hands.

"Yeah, just be careful what you touch," he told her. "You don't know where this stuff's been."

Belle shuffled through the vintage ties and giggled as she pulled a God-awful purple paisley tie off the rack. "How about this, Dr. Izayoi?"

"Kami, no," he growled, his face registering his distaste.

"It's not that bad," she argued. "Actually I kind of like it."

"You can like it all you want, Belle-chan, but it's staying here . . ."

She took her time in the dusty old store. It reminded her of the trunks at home; the packed up reminders of Isabelle's life. Though she didn't doubt that Cain wouldn't have cared if Belle had brought out some of her mother's old things, Belle never could bring herself to do that. Leaving the reminders hidden away in the room down the hall at the opposite end of the mansion, she'd spent hours on end in there, surrounded by her mother's things. It was the one room in the house that Cain refused to venture. Belle didn't doubt that the only reason he'd kept the stuff was for her, anyway.

Kichiro stood near the door, hands stuffed into his pockets as he stared out the window at the busy street. Belle shook her head and bit her lip. He'd been so kind to her all weekend . . . kinder than she had expected, and last night . . .

She hadn't really thought that anything could top the opera and carriage ride through Central Park. Last night, however, was really special; something Belle knew she'd never, ever forget.

_Dinner was casual but sophisticated at the ultra hip Beinvieue. Opened in the spring of this year, the restaurant was already making quite a name for itself in the theater district. After dinner, Kichiro had taken her to see a revival performance of Les Miserables, and she'd loved it. Brought to tears while watching the actress in the role of Fantine---one of the roles she knew her mother had portrayed in her days on the stage---Belle wasn't able to do much more than sniffle and hang onto Kichiro's arm as they left the theater, heading to a small jazz club near the hotel_.

"_I'm glad you liked the musical," he said as he held her chair out_.

_Belle nodded and smiled while he sat down. "It was beautiful," she told him. "How did you know I've always wanted to see it?_"

_He shrugged and blushed at her praise. "You were reading it, remember? I just thought that if you liked the book_ . . ."

"_My mother played Fantine once," she admitted quietly. "The program is in my scrapbook_."

"_Ah, so that's the reason you like the book_."

_Belle toyed with the small paper napkin on the table as Kichiro ordered a soda for her and a glass of wine for himself. "From all the pictures I've seen of her, I can envision her on stage. I can see her that way in my head. Why is it that I can't for the life of me imagine her as my mom?" She shook her head, hesitantly lifted her troubled gaze to meet his. "Does that make sense? It sounds kind of stupid, doesn't it?_"

_Kichiro shook his head. "It's not stupid. Maybe the idea of seeing her on stage is easier to imagine because it isn't as close to you_."

"_You scare me a little," she finally said_.

"_How so?_"

"_Sometimes it seems like you . . . know me a little too well_."

"_Is that bad?_"

_Belle laughed softly as the waitress set the drinks on the table. Kichiro handed her a few folded bills. "It's not bad," Belle replied after the waitress hurried away. "It's . . . I'm just not used to feeling like that_."

_He stared at her for a moment, golden eyes glowing in the ambient light of the faux candle. "Maybe you should get used to it," he told her_.

"_Should I?_"

_Kichiro smiled. "Yeah_."

"Come on, wench," Kichiro said in her ear, startling her out of her reverie. "We have things to do . . . places to go . . ."

"Oh? Where else would that be?"

"I need to get something for my idiot brother. I ought to pick up something for the old man, too . . . Aside from that, I thought you wanted to go sight seeing, didn't you?"

Belle nodded and grasped Kichiro's arm. "Does this mean that you're going to let me have some money?"

Kichiro wrinkled his nose. "And why would I do a thing like that? You don't need money."

Belle rolled her eyes and tweaked Kichiro's ear. He flicked the appendage to evade her fingers. "I want to buy a souvenir for Daddy," she told him. "And possibly something for someone . . . else."

"You already coerced me into buying a few things for Kelly," he grumbled, "and 'Daddy' can come here and buy something, himself."

"I wasn't talking about Kelly," she informed him. "You're buying stuff for your family, right? I should be allowed to do that, too."

"Fine, fine . . . Just pick out what you want."

"I don't want you to buy the souvenirs. I want to buy them, myself. Besides, it'd look pretty stupid if . . ." trailing off with a quick shake of her head, Belle shrugged her shoulders and made a face.

Kichiro grinned. "Who else were you talking about, if not Kelly?"

Belle leveled a meaningful look at Kichiro.

He snorted and blushed slightly but shook his head. "I don't need anything, princess." Sighing as he dug his walled out of his pocket, he pulled out a fifty dollar bill and handed it to her. "Here, but that's all you're getting."

"I need more than that," she argued, stuffing the bill into her purse and holding out her hand for more.

"I told you: I don't need anything," he told her again. "Just buy something for your father, if that's what you want to do. Oh, look . . . there's the perfect shirt for him."

Belle slapped the hanyou's chest when she saw the wrinkled old shirt he was nodding toward. "That's so not funny," she complained. "I have a hard enough time, getting Daddy to wear decent clothes. He'd shop at Wal-Mart, if I'd let him."

"Wal-Mart?" Kichiro echoed, unfamiliar with the nationwide chain of discount stores.

"Yes, Wal-Mart. They sell everything there, and I do mean everything. Entirely wonderful place to shop for necessities. Not the best place if you're looking for quality clothing, especially when you're a world-renowned artist."

"Oh, one of _those_," Kichiro remarked, expression registering abject disgust. "Yeah, well, then that shirt should be perfect for him, don't you think?"

"There you go again," she teased, "stooping to even lower forms of asshattery."

"That isn't even a word, Belle-chan."

She giggled then shrugged as her smile faded. "You've been really great to me this weekend. I've had a lot of fun. I only . . . I wanted to buy something special for you; something you could look at later and remember it."

He thought that over as the barest hint of a smile turned up the corners of his lips. "And what makes you think that just looking at you won't remind me?"

"You just don't want to give me back my money," she said with a shake of her head as she ducked her chin and willed herself not to blush. "That's fine . . ."

Kichiro rolled his eyes, ignoring Belle's obvious attempt to weasel more money out of him, and grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the shop and back onto the sidewalk once more.

"_And what makes you think that just looking at you won't remind me?_"

Belle smiled as she stared at her hand caught in his. Maybe there was something to his claim. The entire weekend . . . She'd never, ever forget it, either.

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Gin teetered on tip-toe as she held onto the cupboard door and leaned as far as she could to scour the high shelf with a hideous green sponge. Hair held back with a stoutly tied pink bandana, she grimaced as dirty tepid water dripped ran down her arm into her shirt. The apartment was stifling, muggy. Rain splattered against the closed windows, and she glanced longingly at the closed structures. It was bound to be nice, out there. Storms normally brought a crispness to the air that Gin wished she could feel. Even with the steady hum of the air conditioning unit, the atmosphere inside the apartment seemed stale, stagnant. She hated it, but there was little else that could be done. 

She'd been cleaning for the better part of the last two days after seeing a bug scuttling across Cain's kitchen floor. There was a bit of a discrepancy, as far as the insect was concerned. Gin swore it was a cockroach. Cain claimed it was a beetle. Either way, it had to go, as far as she was concerned. He had started to argue with her, but not even the great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring and ferocious North America tai-youkai, Cain Zelig stood a chance against a hanyou like Gin when she was bent on world cleanliness.

In retaliation, Cain had closeted himself away in his studio to work on Gin's painting. Though normally not one to insist on absolute secrecy about his work, he did this time. Gin was certain he was only doing it because she'd had the audacity to shoo him out of the kitchen the day before after he'd unceremoniously barked at her.

Pushing herself onto her tiptoes so she could reach the deepest corners of the shelf, Gin bit her cheek and tightened her grip on the door.

"I thought I told you to knock that off before you hurt yourself," Cain grumbled as he ambled into the kitchen, scowling at the stepstool she'd employed since she had promised to stay off the counters.

"I'm not on the counter," she pointed out. "I'm not going to fall."

Cain grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and opened it, tossing the cap in the general vicinity of the trash can. "Find any more beetles, baby girl?"

She shot him a narrow scowl. "Cockroaches, Cain, and no, but your cupboards are filthy."

He shrugged as he drained half the bottle. "Yeah, well, I don't normally eat here that often."

Gin shook her head and dropped the sponge in the sink of soapy gray water. "But you do eat here sometimes." Bending down to retrieve the sparse stack of plain white ceramic plates, she stared at them for a moment before straightening her back with a dismayed sigh as she opened the next cupboard and started unloading the shelves.

"You're making a mess, you know," he pointed out.

"I have to wash all those before I can put them away," she told him. "If the cupboards were dirty, then the plates are, too."

"You could do all that," he drawled, pitching the now-empty bottle into the garbage can, "or you could just put the dishes away and do something with me."

"Like what?"

He chuckled at the hint of grudging interest in her tone. "I don't know . . . we could rent a movie . . ."

She shook her head. "You could go rent a movie while I wash up the dishes and put them away."

"They're clean," he argued.

"No, they're not! If I don't wash them, I'll never be able to watch you eat off them without cringing. Bugs are gross, and cockroaches---"

"Beetles."

"---are the nastiest of them all."

"All right; you forced my hand. Don't say you weren't warned because you were."

"Warned about what?" Gin demanded, casting Cain a dubious glance.

He pushed himself away from the counter and wandered over to her. She squealed and tried to jerk away when he wrapped his arms around her, dragging his claws over her stomach. "Ticklish, baby girl?"

"Stop it!" she giggled, trying to pry his hands away from her. "How would you like it if I went into your studio and started tickling you?"

"I'd love it. It'd be great," he assured her. She laughed at both his dry tone as well as his still-tickling claws.

"That's---not---nice!" Gin giggled.

"Sure it is," he informed her. "Now come down before you fall."

"Let me finish this."

Cain snorted. "Pfft! There's nothing wrong with my cupboards."

"Cain . . ."

He chuckled at the plaintive note in her voice. "All right, all right . . . since cleaning out the cupboards is obviously more interesting than me, I'll leave you alone . . ."

More of a compulsion than a conscious decision, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. What was meant to be a chaste kiss was caught and returned. Cain sighed softly, fingers stilling as he held onto her. His kiss slammed through her with the violent force of a thousand youkai, with all the finesse of the summer storm. Rain beat against the windows in a stunted cadence; the erratic rhythm matching the beat of her heart.

Gin leaned away, breaking the contact as a bashful smile surfaced. "I'm filthy," she murmured, cheeks pinking when Cain made no move to let her go.

"And I've been painting all day."

"Dirty wash water."

"Oil paints are a bitch."

"Cain . . ."

"Gin . . ."

She swallowed hard at the intensity that lit behind his gaze. "I . . ."

"Yes?"

"You're really bad . . ."

"I could be good."

"I wouldn't want to take you away from your work."

"I don't think I'd mind."

"Let me finish this."

Cain sighed. "Fine, fine . . . Jilted for cupboards . . ."

She laughed as she leaned to the side to retrieve the sponge. "You'll feel so much better in a clean house," she told him. "You'll see."

"Pfft! I'd feel so much better if you'd get off that stool. If you fall---"

"I won't fall! I've told you, I've got the dexterity of a cat."

Gin shrieked when a soft clunk made the stepstool wobble. Trying to steady her balance, her arms flailed out. Cain caught her and chuckled as the stool slipped out from under her. He cradled her against his chest and shook his head. "The dexterity of a cat, huh?"

"You kicked the stool!" she grumbled, her face registering her shock and dismay.

"My foot slipped," he protested.

"It didn't slip! You meant to do that!"

He shuffled out of the kitchen with Gin in his arms. She kicked her feet and squirmed around. "Put me down, you bully."

"I don't think I want to. It's not every day I have beautiful women falling all over themselves to get into my arms."

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked a little breathlessly.

"I don't know . . . what _should_ I do with you?"

"Put me down?"

"Nice try, baby girl. I've got you at my mercy . . . I don't think I should relinquish you that quickly, do you?"

She linked her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his chest. "Please put me down?"

"So you can run back to the cupboards again?"

Gin giggled. "Are you jealous of the cupboards?"

He snorted but his cheeks pinked. "Pfft! No!"

"You are!" she gloated.

"Not."

"Are, too!"

"All right," he acknowledged. "I am, but just a little."

"What are you doing?" Gin asked as Cain kicked the bedroom door open and strode into the room.

"I'm going to put you down. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I don't know. I don't think I trust you . . ."

"You trust me," he contradicted.

She shook her head, mesmerized by the fire igniting behind his gaze. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Stop staring at me like---"

"Like what?"

"Like you're going to---" she gulped, "---eat me."

He chuckled rather nastily. "That was the plan."

She gasped as her cheeks flooded with hot color. "Cain!"

"You like it, Gin. Admit it."

"I don't. I---"

He tossed her onto the bed. Her shriek was cut off by his weight bearing down on her, pinning her to the mattress. "You do," he countered, lips pressing against her collarbone through the thin cotton t-shirt she wore. "You know you do."

"I don't; I . . ." Her eyes fluttered closed as his fangs grazed over her. "I do . . ."

He chuckled---a rasping, hoarse sound. "Thought so."

"But I'm dirty, and you---"

"Are, too . . . give it up, Gin. Admit it: you want me."

Hands closing over her breasts, she moaned softly. "I need a shower," she maintained with a stubborn shake of her head.

"So take one later."

"I'm all sticky and . . . sweaty, and . . . and . . . _kami_," she breathed as he pressed his hips against hers.

"Are you going to say it?"

"S-say . . . it?"

He chuckled again, leaning up on his elbow to give Gin a moment to gather her scattered wits. "I want to hear you say," he drawled as he traced her lips with the tip of his claw, "that you want me."

Forcing her eyes open, ignoring the heaviness as she concentrated on his demand, Gin's breath rattled in her ears. "You know I do," she replied in barely more than a whisper.

"I do," he told her. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

The drumming rain of rain hitting the window filled the room with a soothing pattern. "Have you always been this bad or is this a more recent development?" she demanded.

She could have kicked herself for the unintentional reminder. Cain stared at Gin almost sadly, tracing the contours of her face with his fingertips. She caught his wrist, nuzzling her face against his palm. "What's the matter?" she asked him, gently rubbing away the frown that furrowed his brow.

"Nothing . . . everything . . . Gin . . ."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you . . ."

"It's not you," he told her with a wan smile. "Never you."

He rolled to the side, flopping onto his back and draping his arm over his face with a heavy sigh.

Gin scooted over, hugging him close as she tried to offer him some measure of comfort. "Cain . . ."

"It's all right," he assured her. She winced at the hint of doubt in his tone. "I'll be okay. Just give me a minute."

She didn't answer, holding him tighter, kissing his shoulder, struggling to understand the ghosts that haunted him. She wanted to tell him how she felt. She wanted to tell him she loved him. Indecision kept her quiet. In the end, all she could do was hold him. If she could find the words to ask him, if she could make him tell her what had happened so long ago . . .

Cain sighed again and turned toward her so quickly that she gasped as he snatched her against him; as he held onto her as though his very life depended on it. Gin frowned as she tightened her hold on him. If she wanted to win the war, she needed to know just what sort of memories she was fighting.

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**_A/N_**:

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**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_So just what did happen_?

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_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	52. Lost Things

**_Lime Warning_**

_This is supposed to be a lime chapter; however THIS is the 'clean' version of the chapter, for those who don't care for the lime. If you want to read the lime, it isn't posted here. according to their TOS, will not allow the posting of Adult Rated Materials, so if you want to read the lime/lemon, see MY BIO ON MY AUTHOR PAGE. There is a link to my fanfics on Media Miner, where the lemons are posted. If you have trouble, you might have to adjust the settings to see ALL rated fics, as Media Miner is set to default at PG-13_.

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**_Chapter 52_**

**_Lost Things

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Belle hung the last of the dresses in her closet with a happy little giggle before dusting off her hands and grabbing her cell phone to call and check up on Kelly. She had meant to call her friend during their weekend excursion, but everything had slipped her mind. Brushing aside the stirrings of guilt since she was concerned that Kelly might be feeling some pre-surgery jitters, Belle picked up the phone and unfolded the device.

"Here." Belle glanced toward the doorway. Kichiro stood there with the jeweler's box in his hands. His ears flattened for a moment as he set it down on her bureau. "You might want to put those someplace safe."

She frowned as he slipped away from her room. He'd seemed . . . sad? No, not sad . . . reluctant? But why?

Tossing her phone lightly onto the bed, Belle grabbed the velvet box and one of the two tiny Statue of Liberty replicas off her bureau and headed out of the room. Cain had a safe in the living room. That'd probably be the best place for the jewelry. Opting to peek at the necklace one last time before stowing it away, Belle lifted the lid on the way down the stairs . . . and froze in her tracks. Eyes flaring wide as air hissed into her lungs, she hesitantly reached out to touch it: the missing earring. He'd found it? Where?

"Where did you find it?" she blurted as she ran down the last of the stairs and into the living room. Kichiro glanced up from his laptop computer and slowly set it aside as he pulled off his glasses and dropped them on the coffee table. "I'm so relieved! I can't believe you got it back! Was it in the carriage? Did the driver call you? I'll bet he found it, right? I knew that had to be where I'd lost it . . ."

Kichiro flinched as Belle hurtled herself into his arms in a jubilant hug. "Can't you return them now? I mean, you found it, right? Can you explain what happened? I'm sure they'd---"

"They won't take them back once you pay for them, Belle. That store specializes in one of a kind jewelry. I can't return them. It doesn't work that way."

She shook her head. "Oh . . . Well . . . Can you . . . can you sell them? Surely someone else---"

"Don't worry about it, Belle."

A shadow of a doubt surfaced in her mind as she crossed the floor and dialed the combination lock on the safe housed behind a painting of Belle at five years-old. She slipped the jewelry box into the safe and closed the door, slipping the picture back into place before slowly turning to stare at the hanyou. Kichiro was standing where she'd left him, hands jammed into his pockets as he glanced around the opulent living room without looking at her even once.

"Where did you find it?" she asked quietly.

"Find what?"

"The earring . . . where did you find it?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

Belle crossed her arms over her chest. "I think it might."

"It's all right," he insisted. "They look good on you."

She counted to ten before she asked him again. "Where did you find it?"

"In my . . . pocket."

"In your . . .?"

Belle couldn't have described the feeling that overcame her if her life depended on it. As if someone had yanked the carpet out from under her feet only worse; as if everything she'd ever thought she believed about Kichiro, about the world, and worst of all, about herself had been nothing but a cruel joke, she stumbled back, shaking her head as she held up her hands to warn off the doctor as he stepped toward her.

The room felt like it was closing in on her, and with a muffled whimper, a choked sigh, she wheeled around on her heel and sprinted for the door.

"Belle, wait, it's---"

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked, jerking her arm out of Kichiro's grasp. "Don't you ever touch me! You lied to me! You lied, and you said . . . Oh, it doesn't even matter what you said! How could you do that? How could you?"

He flinched but let her go. Belle ran out the door, into the rain as thunder rumbled high overhead, as streaks of lightning split the sky, as she felt as though her heart was breaking.

'_How could he do that? I felt so bad! I thought I was so stupid! I _cried_ over that stupid earring! I hope he thought that was funny . . . I hope he enjoyed his stupid little prank_ . . .'

'_Maybe that's not what he was trying to do, Belle . . . You didn't give him a chance to explain_.'

'_Oh, that's just beautiful! You're taking his side, too? You were there! I thought . . . I thought I'd lost that earring, and he_---"

'_And he told you it was okay, and he told you not to cry. He didn't like seeing you so upset, and you know it_.'

'_Then why would he have lied to me? If he wasn't trying to humiliate me, why would he do that?_'

"Belle, damn it, will you wait?"

Belle ignored Kichiro's voice and kept running; stumbling over branches she didn't see as she told herself not to cry, not over a jerk like _him_, anyway . . .

Kichiro caught her arm and tugged her around to face him. "Will you listen to me? Please?"

"Why would you do that?" she asked, unable to keep the plaintive note out of her voice.

His ears were flattened, probably to keep the rain out of them. He was completely soaked with rain dripping off the ends of his hair, the tip of his nose. He shrugged. "I . . . I wanted you to have them. I thought you should have them."

"So why didn't you just say that?"

He scowled at her. "Would you have taken them if I'd offered?"

"Of course not!"

"There you go."

"So you _lied_ to me? You made me think that I was . . . stupid? I felt like a fool---a complete and utter fool!"

"Belle, that wasn't---I didn't---Damn it!"

"Do you know how badly I felt when I thought that I'd lost that earring? Do you? I thought . . . I thought . . . and you . . . you . . . you _jerk!_"

"Look, I knew you wouldn't take them if I just offered to buy them for you, and I was right. Does it matter, really? The end result would have been the same!"

"I think it does. I thought you understood me! I thought . . . Oh, I'm so _stupid!_ I never should have . . . _I hate you!_"

"I know you do!" he bellowed back.

"Good, then there shouldn't be any surprise when I tell you to go straight to hell!"

"I'm already there, princess!"

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Because you fucking drive me _insane!_"

"I drive you insane? _Puh-leez!_"

"Yeah, please, yourself! I've done nothing but bend over backward for you, wench, and you can't even call me by name? What the hell do you want me to do? Sprout wings and skywrite it?"

"Why don't you try saying your sorry and mean it?"

He had his mouth open to retort but snapped it closed as he stared at her like he wasn't sure what to make of what she'd just said. "What?"

Belle sighed, all of her anger draining out of her as she kicked her toes in the muddy dirt and shook her head. "All those times you were mean . . . and all I wanted . . . Forget it. It doesn't matter now."

"No, I think it does," he said quietly. "Belle . . . I'm sorry . . ."

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

"How can that possibly be all you wanted? I've done everything to show you I was sorry . . . I . . . I _puked_ for you . . ."

She knew he was just trying to make her smile. Damned if it didn't work, though. "You're such a jerk," she grumbled as she tried not to give in. "If you'd have just said you were sorry and meant it . . ."

"Yeah, I'm a jerk . . . a big, stupid jerk because I really . . . I didn't think you'd believe me if I just said I was sorry."

She dared to meet his gaze. He was glowering at the ground, sniffling as rain dripped from every major orifice of his body. Ears flattened, tailored clothes sodden and ruined . . . he'd never looked sexier to Belle, ever, and she swallowed hard as she raised a hand to brush his soaked bangs away from his face. "You mean that, don't you? You're sorry for all that stuff."

"Yeah," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "I am. Can we go inside now? You can yell at me more, if you want, just . . . can we get out of the rain?"

Belle slowly shook her head, not taking her eyes off the hanyou. "No."

"No . . . All right. Let's get it over with. Come on."

"Come on?"

He snorted, ears flicking as he tried to rid himself of the moisture, to no avail. "Give it your best shot, princess. Let's hear what you've got. I'm a jerk, an ass, a bastard . . . Did I miss any?"

She stepped toward him as he eyed her almost warily. Slowly, deliberately, she reached for his hand, turned it over, slipped the tiny statue in his open palm and closed his fingers over it. "I bought this for you."

He stared at the piece and smiled, just a little. "For me?"

She nodded. "I know, it's . . . cheesy and dumb . . . But I thought maybe you'd put it on your desk or something? To remind you . . ."

"I could do that."

She smiled, too.

"Mind telling me why you refuse to go back inside yet?"

"I'll go."

He nodded and started to turn around. Belle caught his hand. "Wait . . ."

"All right. What is it?"

Her smile turned bashful, and she shrugged. "Well, you see . . . When I got caught out in the rain when I was younger, Daddy always came looking for me, and . . . he'd dance with me before he took me inside. Then he'd build fire, and we'd cuddle . . ."

Kichiro glanced around; as if he were trying to make sure he was interpreting her correctly as he stuck the statue in his pocket. "So . . . you want me to dance with you . . . and make you a fire . . . and . . . cuddle . . . with you?"

"I am assuming you'd rather skip the toasting of marshmallows."

He winced. "Yeah, I think that'd be best."

She giggled as she stepped closer to him again, taking both of his hands in hers. "Dance with me . . . Kichiro."

He blinked quickly, unused to hearing his name on her lips. Pulling her close, he danced slowly with her, listening to a song that only the two of them could hear as the rain poured down on them. Belle rested her cheek on his shoulder. She didn't see the contented little smile that quirked the corners of Kichiro's lips, and she didn't see the suspect brightness in his gaze just before he closed his eyes and sighed, drawing her closer, resting his cheek against her soaked hair.

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"I'll get the fire going. Why don't you get out of that dress before you catch pneumonia?" Kichiro said as he opened the door and stepped inside, ears flicking and sending droplets of water flying. 

Belle giggled and closed the door. "Your ears are the cutest things . . ."

He blushed but snorted as he strode over to start stacking logs in the blackened fireplace. "Yeah, yeah, leave them out of this, will you?"

"But they are!" she insisted. "Can you imagine how many women you'd have all over you if everyone saw them?"

"Feh! Like I care about that," he scoffed as he dug the statue out of his pocket and set it on the coffee table.

"Admit it: you loved dancing in the rain with me."

"It was fine," he allowed, sniffling as rain dripped down his face. The wood was dusty and dry. He sneezed as he dropped a couple logs onto the hearth and moved to grab more. "Now do me a favor and get out of that soaked dress, will you?"

"Okay, okay . . . you could stand to learn some patience."

"So you say . . . I'd rather that you don't get sick."

Sneezing again as more dust assailed his sensitive nose, Kichiro scowled in disgust as he sniffled. Unable to smell anything other than the wood, he groped around for the box of matches and flicked his ears, wincing as water dripped into them. He hated rain. That would be why.

A dull, wet slapping sound drew him upright as his ears twitched and pivoted to listen, as his brain froze and numbed. Unable to believe what the sound was, he gaped at the fire he'd just started and let the box of matches fall from his hands.

"Okay, Kichiro. I took off the wet dress."

'_Oh, kami, she didn't_ . . .'

He slowly turned to peek over his shoulder and stifled a groan. Belle stood just behind him, completely naked. One knee bent demurely, hands behind her back; the length of her hair covered one of her breasts as rain water dripped off the ends, running in a thin stream down her belly only to disappear in the shadowed taper of bronze curls between her legs. He stared, but two things in particular interested him: two thin lavender stripes; one on each of her slender hips . . . stripes that could easily have been hidden under her bathing suit . . .

"_Damn_ . . ."

"Something wrong?" she asked as she twisted a lock of hair around her fingers.

"Kami, no . . . not at all . . . Everything's just . . . perfect . . ."

"Perfect?"

"Yeah . . . perfect . . ."

"You're still all wet," she told him, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Maybe you should get out of your wet clothes, don't you think?"

His hands were trembling too much to work the tiny buttons. Coupled with the wet fabric, it seemed like his clothing was trying to thwart him. Muttering a low curse and considering doing something that would have been unthinkable ten minutes before, he cracked his knuckles and lifted his chin as he raised his hand, poised his claws to cut through the fabric.

Belle giggled softly and stepped toward him. Stifling a groan as her body moved in a beautiful symmetry, she reached out, unhooked the buttons, pressing her lips against his flesh as she revealed him.

He wanted to stop her. He grasped her upper arms to do it. She peeked up at him; her eyes darkened in the filmy half-light, the smoldering burn stopped him. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, kneading his skin as she pushed the wet fabric down the length of his arms. Stepping around him, pressing wet kisses to his conflagrant flesh, he closed his eyes and felt himself shudder. Her hands stroked his skin, setting off ripples of muscles that leapt under her touch. She slipped her arms around his waist, pressed her breasts into his back, leaned her cheek on his shoulder as her ragged sighs flitted over him.

Sparing a moment to run her fingertips over his belly button, Belle let her claws drag over his skin, lower and lower, grasping the button of his slacks as he rasped out a ragged moan. Powerless to stop her, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality, he felt her tug the button open, felt the zipper give under her fingers.

She stepped back around him, hands grasping his hips as she slowly pushed the slacks down over his hips, dropping to her knees to run the tip of her tongue along the ridges of his abdomen; to kiss the rise and hollow of his hip. His body jerked away from her ministrations. The contact was too much and somehow just not enough. Stepping out of the ruined pants and absently thanking sheer dumb luck that he'd chased her without bothering to put his shoes back on, Kichiro grasped her arms again, meaning to pull her to her feet, meaning to kiss her senseless.

All of his intentions dissipated when her hands closed in around him.

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

Belle sat back, with a secretive smile as Kichiro fell to his knees before her. She sighed and kissed his cheek before reaching for a blanket off the sofa, and he shook his head as he struggled to breathe. She seemed to think that it was all over, and in his still-hazy mind, he didn't react quickly. She tugged him down to lean against the sofa and crawled over, spreading the blanket over them before nestling herself against his chest.

"Just what do you think . . . you're doing?" he rasped, breathing still labored and harsh.

"Cuddling," she replied as she kissed his shoulder. "I just want to be near you right now."

He smiled at the warmth that ebbed through him. "We're not finished," he informed her.

"We're not?"

He shook his head, tilted her chin to kiss her forehead. "If you weren't so impatient . . ."

She sat up, her brow furrowing in confusion as the blanket slipped off her shoulder. "I thought you wanted . . . You didn't . . .? But---"

"Oh, I wanted that," he stated flatly. "I want something else, too."

"Like . . . what?" she asked a little breathlessly.

He chuckled as he traced the curve of her breast with his claws. Her gaze darkened with passion once more. He chuckled again. "You look good, Belle-chan, did you know?"

"D-do I?" she whispered, eyes drifting closed as he rolled to lay her down. He nipped her lower lip. She shivered.

"Kami, yes . . . Good enough to . . . eat . . ."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I don't---"

"Are you going to tell me that none of your _boys_ ever worshipped you, princess?"

"Worship me?"

He kissed her gently, tiny kisses all over the curves of her lips. She sighed and smiled, her hands stroking his cheeks, tracing his eyebrows, fingertips grazing over the rough skin of his jaw. "A princess deserves to be worshipped," he told her.

"Does . . . she?"

He nodded. "Absolutely . . . and I fully intend to do that." Placing gentle kisses on each of her closed eyes, the tip of her nose, the bow of her lip . . . Belle sighed, stroking his ears as he kissed every inch of her face.

"Kichiro . . ." she breathed.

"Damn, I like it when you say my name."

She kissed him as he squeezed her breast. Her whimper shifted into a moan as she arched her back, pressing her breast more firmly into his hand. "I want to hear you scream my name, princess." He traced the hollows of her throat with the tip of his tongue. She gasped, her lips parting as her hands fell to his shoulders.

She smelled like the rain; she tasted like the sea. Her body hummed, throbbed with the beat of her heart: wild as a young bird preparing to try out its wings for the very first time. Belle clung to him, held onto him, uttered sharp sounds both soothing and enticing.

Kichiro slid up her body, used his skin to create a thorough caress. Capturing her lips in a kiss meant to brand her, meant to subdue and excite her, he smiled inwardly as she threaded her arms around his neck. She whimpered quietly, body trembling like a summer blossom kissed with dew. He could taste himself lingering on her lips. The heady reminder was a silent impetus, goading him, torturing him, and he broke the kiss to stare at her. "No one else, Belle . . . not ever."

She shook her head, her gaze still hazy, veiled by the desire that coursed through her so heavy, so consuming that Kichiro could smell it. "No, never . . ."

"Promise me," he insisted.

Belle nodded slowly. "I promise."

He smiled. "Good."

Dropping his mouth over her collarbone, Kichiro reveled in the reactions he inspired. Belle gasped and drew up off the floor, arms tightening around his neck as he started a slow decent. Climbing the swell of her breasts, gently squeezing them in his hands, he dragged his lips over her, pressed wet kisses on her flushed skin. Her body was impossibly soft, unbelievably taunt over muscles that quivered under his touch. Breasts heaving and straining against him, her body begged for whatever relief he could provide. Words spilled from her lips in a jumble of incoherence. She tried to say his name but faltered. Running his hands up and down her sides to soothe her only seemed to make it worse. Her soft entreaties became tiny sounds, her need rife in the tangled web of emotion.

His mouth closed over the peak of her breast as she sucked in a sharp breath, arching up off the floor. Her knees fell apart as he moved to cover her, her body rising up as he settled between her thighs. Her damp heat singed him, beckoned him. Ignoring his own baser instincts, willing away the overwhelming need to claim her, he concentrated instead on touching her. She whimpered and whined, pushed against him only to be thwarted by his unrelenting perusal, his slow invocation.

Kissing his way down the slope of her belly, he sucked in a harsh breath as her claws scraped over his shoulders. Capturing her hands in one of his, he continued his path of seduction. Belle tugged on her hands, trying to free herself. He uttered a low growl to still her.

Her answer was a plaintive moan, almost a whine. She writhed under him, the heat of her body pressing against his belly. Kichiro let his fangs drag over her skin, mouth closing on the tender flesh of her hip. Her crests captivated him. Determined to touch every bit of her skin, he ran the tip of his tongue along the jagged outlines of the youkai markings. She was meant to be his, wasn't she? She was born that way: marked in his color, marked by his lips.

"I . . . I need . . . I . . . Kich . . . iro . . ." she murmured.

He leaned on his elbow to spare her a glance. "It's okay, Belle . . . You're safe, right? Trust me."

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

The sound of splintering of wood didn't deter him. Driven by the consuming need to show her the beauty that he saw in her, he broke her will over and over, pushed her over the edge time and again, until she was laughing and crying at the same time. Then he crawled up to her, gathered her close, stretched out so she could cuddle against him as she squeezed her eyes closed, still babbling things that made no sense at all.

"You broke the table," he told her with a chuckle as he stared at the now three-legged coffee table.

Belle sat up and craned her neck to follow the direction of his gaze. Cheeks blossoming in an embarrassed flush, she buried her face against his chest as he laughed louder. "Did I do that?"

"Yeah, you did, princess . . . should we replace that so your daddy doesn't know?"

She giggled but refused to lift her head. "I think so."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself to the point of violence," he quipped.

She groaned. "That's so not funny . . . but I'm glad I did, too . . ."

His smile dimmed as he caught her chin with his finger and tipped her face to look at her. "Why did you think we were done after you . . . had your way with me?"

She shrugged but didn't try to look away. "Other guys . . . They would have been done."

He shook his head.

"It's not a big deal, right? I don't mind it so much . . . I just like to cuddle."

"Wait . . . so you'd give some guy head just so he'd cuddle with you?"

Belle sighed and shrugged again. "Well . . . not exactly . . ."

"Belle . . . that's not how it should be. Don't you know that?"

She smiled shyly. "I do now."

He heaved a sigh but smiled, too, pulling her close again, content to give her the cuddle-time she wanted. "Good because what we just did? _That's_ how it is supposed to be." He snorted. "You'll be giving me those names now."

"And why would I do that?" she countered, her tone rather bemused.

"Because if they're fucking stupid enough not to realize that there's something to be said for pleasing your ma---girl, then they need to have their heads shoved up their own asses," he grumbled, face reddening as much from his near slip as it was out of sheer irritation at some men's ignorance.

"Your . . . you almost said mate, didn't you?" she asked, leaning up on her elbows to look at him.

"I told you, Belle. There will never be another man who'll touch you or I'll kill him, myself."

For the briefest moment, she looked absolutely thrilled before a wash of concern forced away the happy glint in her eyes. Kichiro could have kicked himself for inadvertently reminding her of anything that made her sad.

"Look, I know how you feel about that, but I've made up my mind. You're mine. Period. End of story."

"Kichiro . . ."

"No, I don't want to hear it, okay? I know how you feel, and I don't blame you, but you've got to know that we're inevitable."

"I'm not saying 'never' . . . We just have to wait till Daddy is convinced that he needs to stick around."

"Kami save me from wenches and girls who think to damn fucking much," he muttered as he gently pushed her away and sat up. "Five years, princess! I've lived through the last five years, waiting for you, and now you're telling me---"

"I can't, you know! I can't choose you when Daddy . . . He's just waiting, you know? He's waiting for me to find a mate and have a son . . ."

"A son?" Kichiro echoed, hooking his arms around his raised knees. "What the hell does one have to do with the other?"

"I told you, didn't I? Daddy needs an heir---the next tai-youkai. He needs a son . . . or a grandson. Then . . . as my mate, you'd be interim tai-youkai till our son was old enough to take over, but the point is that Daddy . . ."

Kichiro sighed. "All right," he reasoned slowly. "So . . . we just don't have pups."

"What?"

He sighed, peeking over his shoulder at Belle, who was leaning on her elbow looking duly perplexed. "You said it, yourself. Your father needs an heir. If he thinks you're not going to provide the heir, then what does it matter, if you're mated or not?"

"You . . . don't . . . want pups?"

He grimaced at the hurt in her expression. "No! That's not it, at all! I want . . . a houseful of pups; an _army_ of pups . . . but if it would make your father think that he needs to find another mate, then . . . whatever, so long as you're happy."

"An army's . . . quite large . . ."

He rolled his eyes and stretched out beside Belle, leaning on his elbow as he pushed her still-damp bangs out of her face. "As sexy as you are, Belle-chan, I'm pretty certain that seeing you pregnant with my pup . . . that'd be sexy as hell, too."

She finally smiled. "So you mean that we'd just tell Daddy that we're never having pups?"

He shrugged. "If that's what it takes."

"He won't believe that. Daddy knows . . . I've told him before, that I wanted lots of babies."

"Yeah, well, something tells me that your father isn't going to like me, ever. I'll just tell him _I_ don't want pups."

"But you really do, right?"

"Belle---"

"I'm just making sure!"

He sighed. "You know I wouldn't make you choose between your fucking father and me, right?"

"I know, and I . . . It means everything to me."

He forced a smile. "Come here, princess. You wore me out."

"What? The little princess wore out the big, strong hanyou?"

He snorted. "Feh! Thought you wanted to cuddle."

She giggled but let him draw her into his arms. "I'd think you'd be glad you were the first to . . . well, my first, that way."

"And last."

"And only."

He kissed her forehead as she stroked his cheek. The feeling of well-being was almost frightening, the absolute completeness of holding Belle against his heart, as close as his breath. In that moment she was more precious to him, more mysterious to him than any other being could possibly be and yet in his soul he knew her. Beautiful, gentle, as wild as the storm outside, she was Belle, and she was meant to be his mate.

She sighed softly as he caught her fingers, as he pressed them to his lips. "I can get used to having you around," he confessed.

Belle giggled softly. "Are you sure? I thought you couldn't stand me."

"You're fine when you're not talking," he allowed.

She tugged his braid playfully. "You're such a jerk."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I really am . . ."

"Sometimes I think you like to make me mad."

"Don't be ridiculous, little girl . . . my princess . . . my goddess . . ."

His smile was real this time as he pulled the blanket over them. "Belle?"

"Hmm?"

"I . . . liked . . . dancing in the rain with you."

She giggled and nestled closer. "Me, too."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

… _Wow _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	53. Indecision

**_Chapter 53_**

**_Indecision

* * *

_**

Gin peeked around Cain's arm to see what was in the box he brought in after he'd checked the mail. Recognizing Belle's handwriting on the label, Gin was more than a little interested. The stamp on the airmail box said 'perishable' which probably accounted for the overnight delivery that had to have cost an exorbitant amount of money. "What'd she send?"

He pulled out a festively wrapped package and handed it to Gin. She turned it over and read the tag, written in Kichiro's hideous doctor's scrawl: '_Happy birthday, baby girl. Sorry I missed it. Kich_.'

Gin opened the package and giggled at the shirts inside: 'Baby Girl' was written across the chest of the light pink baby-T. The other two were plain white t-shirts that proclaimed: 'I Love New York' with a heart instead of the word, 'love'. "This one must be for you," Gin remarked as she held up the extra-extra large version.

Cain wrinkled his nose. "I don't think so."

"It could be fun," Gin remarked. "We could be twins."

He snorted. "Pfft. No."

She rolled her eyes. "Bellaniece will be awfully sad that you don't like her gift . . ."

"Bellaniece probably thought they were perfectly hideous, too."

Gin giggled and dropped the shirt onto the counter and pulled out the pink shirt.

"Baby girl, huh?"

Gin giggled again and held up the shirt for Cain's perusal. "Cute, isn't it?"

He shook his head but chuckled. "Yep . . . You don't mind them calling you 'baby girl'?"

"No, and you do it, too, you know."

"I know. You are."

She set the box of shirts aside and leaned around Cain to get a better view. "What's all that?"

Cain's grin widened. "Proof that there is a God and that He created peanut butter."

Gin shrugged. "We have peanut butter."

He snorted. "You have peanut pasty stuff. This is peanut _butter_. Huge difference . . . white bread . . . wow . . . I adore my daughter."

Gin frowned at the slightly squashed loaf of bread that Cain pulled out of the box and set on the counter before digging in again. Reaching around to grab the plastic jar of peanut butter, Gin unscrewed the lid and sniffed it cautiously.

"Here," Cain told her, taking the jar and ripping off the protective seal. "Get a spoon and taste it."

Gin sniffed the jar again. It smelled good. It smelled a little sweet. Ambling over to retrieve a spoon from the drawer beside the sink, she scooped a tiny bit out and flicked out her tongue to taste it. "Oh, this _is_ good," she told Cain as she dug into the jar for a bigger taste.

"Uh huh . . . it's mine, so no funny ideas."

Gin made a face and held out the peanut butter covered spoon to the tai-youkai. He jerked away when the spoon appeared under his nose but let her stick it into his mouth to feed him a bite. "Here," he said, holding out his hand for the jar of peanut butter. Gin growled as her ears flattened back, and she cradled the jar against her chest, turning to the side to shelter it from Cain's outstretched hand. He rolled his eyes and reached around her, plucking the jar out of her grasp as she growled again in protest. "You'll love this. Hold on, and don't touch the jar."

Gin scowled as Cain set the jar aside and grabbed what looked to be a candy bar. She tried to grab the jar. He slapped her hands back. "Ah-ah. Back off, baby girl. Be patient, can't you?"

"The note in the box said that the stuff was for both of us," Gin pointed out.

"Yeah, well, before you eat all the peanut butter and make yourself sick, let me show you something."

Gin crossed her arms over her chest and waited, tapping her foot as she eyed the jar of peanut butter.

Cain snapped what looked to be a bar of chocolate into pieces and smeared peanut butter on one chunk before holding out his peanut butter covered fingers to Gin. "Try this."

It took a moment for Gin to make up her mind, whether to refuse on principle or not. The idea of chocolate and peanut butter together, though, was far too intriguing, and in the end, she opened her mouth for the foreign treat. "Oh, that's even better!" she insisted as she slowly chewed and swallowed. "You're brilliant, did you know?"

He chuckled. "I would have been, had I been the one to come up with that idea. You want another piece?"

Gin nodded, hopping onto the counter despite Cain's gentle swat for the effort. "You really need to learn to stay off the counters," he told her. "Are you sure you're not cat-hanyou?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Nope. Anyway---hey!" she exclaimed in righteous indignation as Cain popped the next bit of chocolate and peanut butter into his mouth.

He held up a finger meant to tell her to wait. Gin grabbed a piece of chocolate and stuck it into the jar of peanut butter. Cain shook his head.

The telephone interrupted the rising disagreement. Gin made use of the lapse while Cain answered the call to grab the rest of the chocolate bar along with the peanut butter.

"Zelig," he answered.

The chocolate bar was scored for easier dividing. Gin snapped off a row of three blocks and giggled as she dipped the chocolate only to come up with peanut-butter covered fingers.

Intercepting Cain's scowl as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone call, she smiled at him. He didn't smile back.

"What makes you think they'd do that?" Cain demanded, crossing his arms over his chest as he hooked the phone between his shoulder and ear and started pacing. "Really . . ."

Gin set the jar aside and slowly sucked the peanut butter off her fingers as she frowned at Cain's rapidly rising irritation. Thickening in the air like a rising storm cloud, his emotions were as palpable to Gin as they would have been had she been the one experiencing them, herself.

Cain sighed. "All right. I'll be there. Just give me a few days to arrange it."

He hung up the phone and dragged his hands over his face. "Damn it."

"Cain?"

Wheeling around to face her, he looked like he might have forgotten that Gin was there at all. Casting her an apologetic smile that seemed more like a grimace, he shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he wandered back toward her. "I've got to go," he said slowly.

Gin swallowed hard as her fingers dropped away from her lips. "Oh . . ."

He shook his head. "There're a few things that need my attention, and I can't take care of it from here . . . I've got to go to Chicago . . ."

Staring at her hands in her lap, Gin tried to sound neutral. "I see."

"I've been away longer than I thought I would, and stuff's come up . . ."

"You don't have to explain it to me," she assured him.

"No, I do. Guess the timing's good, though. At least the university is on a break . . ."

"Cain, it's okay."

He was silent a few moments then cleared his throat. "You . . . You wouldn't . . . You don't want to come with me, do you?"

Gin peeked over at him. Still standing with his hands jammed into his pockets and a thoughtful scowl on his face, Cain was staring at the box, and Gin smiled when she saw the hint of pink creeping into his features. "You want me to go with you? To Chicago?"

He shrugged. "If you want . . . Do you think your papa will let you?"

She grimaced. She hadn't thought of that. "I don't know . . ."

"There are a lot of art galleries and museums in Chicago . . . I guess you could always tell him it's like a . . . field trip . . . or something."

"Are you saying I should lie to my papa?"

He shook his head. "Nope. I'm saying you could tell him that, if you think he'd like that any better."

She sighed as much from the irritated scowl on Cain's face as from her own lingering doubts that InuYasha would agree to the trip. "Well, if I told him that---that I wanted to go as your _student_---then I'd have to go to those places . . ."

Cain tried for an air of nonchalance that failed miserably. "Look, Gin, I don't want you to go as my student, okay? I don't have a problem taking you to those places, but . . . just not as my student."

Gin smiled. "Really?"

He shrugged and stepped over to her, grabbing her by the back of her knees and drawing her legs apart as he pulled her toward him. "If you think that you're just a student to me, I swear to God I'll beat you."

Gin swallowed hard and started to lean back. She didn't doubt for a second that Cain never really would make good on that threat, but he was close---too close. His arms wrapped around her, holding her still as the fierceness in his gaze startled her.

"O-okay."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle checked her watch and sighed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she stood up and wandered toward the patio doors. After waiting at the hospital for the better part of the afternoon, she'd taken a taxi to the mall and then came home. 

Shopping always relaxed her.

It didn't work this time.

Despite Kichiro's reassurances that the surgery should go just fine, Belle couldn't help but worry. Sure, he was a fantastic surgeon. Of course, he came highly recommended. Kelly was as healthy as she could be, and she was youkai, too. Still she couldn't help but worry, and when all was said and done, she just couldn't bear to go back to the hospital to wait.

He'd told her that the surgery could take all day. It was hard to say before he got in there and really saw what he could do. There was a chance that all the grafts he planned wouldn't be able to be done in this surgery, and that would affect the length, but he was optimistic, and Belle couldn't help but draw a modicum of comfort from his reassurances.

Of course, when he got home and found out what she'd done in her spare time today, there was a good chance that he'd be yelling at her instead of trying to reassure her . . .

With that thought, Belle carefully pulled up the hem of her 'princess' baby-T, gingerly touching the newly-acquired belly button ring that Kichiro was likely to yell over. It didn't hurt anymore, which was a welcome relief. She'd wondered about her decision shortly afterward when her belly button was aching so badly that she thought she was going to scream.

She told herself that she was hanyou so she'd heal faster, after all. It didn't alleviate the awful pain. Lying on the sofa to take a nap had helped. When she woke up, the pain was gone, much to her relief, and the sun was starting to set.

'_Yelling is the least of your concern, Belle . . . You know that, right?_'

Belle made a face as she slipped the patio door open and stepped outside. '_Kichiro won't care . . . well, not for long_ . . .'

'_You've got to be kidding! That man makes it his mission to know every single thing you do, when you do it, and why, and you think that the belly button piercing won't be a big deal to him?_'

'_You make it sound like he's overbearing and all that. He's not, you know. He's just protecting me_.'

'_Protecting you? Maybe . . . I think he's just horny as hell, if you want my honest opinion_.'

Belle grinned as she sat down on the top step. '_There's that, too_ . . .' She stifled a sigh and tried to feel a little guiltier for her next thought. '_I suppose he'll be really tired when he gets here . . . Too tired for that, anyway_ . . .'

'_Oh, my God, you're as bad as he is!_'

Belle laughed at her disgusted youkai and tilted her head back to stare at the sky. '_Don't be such a prude! It's not bad that we enjoy each other_.'

'_Not bad, no . . . but you know, Belle, you swore you didn't want a mate, didn't you?_'

'_Maybe I changed my mind_,' she answered, '_and if I have to have a mate, I might as well have one who worships me_.'

'. . . _Worships, indeed_ . . .'

'_He can worship me all he likes . . . I'll make him the head priest of my temple, any day_ . . .'

'_Oh, for the love of . . . If your father heard you, he'd wash your mind out with soap_.'

'_He wouldn't. He's had sex before. If he's playing his cards right, he'll have it again, too_ . . .'

'_Good Lord, what has that hanyou done to you? You're thoroughly perverted!_'

Belle laughed again. '_I don't see the problem, you know. You've been barking at me forever, to be serious about finding a mate. Well, I found him . . . and I'm not complaining. He's_ . . .' Belle's smile faltered as a softer luminance entered her gaze. Basking in the glow of feeling completely content, she refused to allow darker thoughts to enter her mind. '_He's my Prince Charming_.'

'_Your Prince Charming, huh? Replaced your father that quickly?_'

Belle winced and shook her head, her contentment bursting like an over-inflated balloon. '_No, of course not! I still need him . . . He's my daddy_ . . .'

It was difficult enough to reconcile her feelings about Kichiro Izayoi with the things she knew were true. Kichiro was someone she could count on, someone she adored. Trying to imagine her life without him was impossible. Somehow he'd infiltrated her world and made it better. Almost as though he could see into her mind, he just knew what she needed, what she wanted, and maybe he wasn't perfect. Maybe he was grouchy in the mornings until he'd had at least a pot of coffee or two. Maybe he wasn't the most eloquent or the best at expressing his feelings, but really, who was?

But he did hold her, and he comforted her. He could make her forget the things that she feared. He brought her dreams to life, and all the things he thought were weaknesses in his own personality, she saw as strengths. Belle shook her head, shrugged her shoulders as she gazed at the lavender-streaked sky. Thoughtful, evocative, Kichiro was refined, cultured. She didn't doubt that he could hold his own in a fight if he had to, but she loved the idea that he always tried to find another solution. No, his 'weakness', if he really had one, was the inferiority he seemed to suffer. It didn't make sense to her. As smart as he was, as multi-faceted as he was, there wasn't any real good reason for it.

'_I'll make sure he knows_,' she thought. '_He's as good as anyone . . . or better_.'

Drawing a deep breath as she strengthened her resolve, Belle sat up a little straighter, lifted her chin a little more proudly. Kichiro needed to feel like he was every bit as good if not better than everyone else, and she was going to make sure he did.

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* * *

"Izayoi." 

Gin gripped the telephone receiver and licked her lips suddenly-dry. "Mama, how are you feeling?"

"Good, good . . . surprisingly good. No morning sickness this week."

"Aw, Mama . . . How's Papa taking it?"

Kagome sighed. "You know your father. He's over at your uncle's house, practicing with Tetsusaiga right now."

"Oh . . ."

"Is something wrong?"

As if on cue, Cain wrapped his arms around Gin's waist, leaning down to nuzzle her cheek with his. It bolstered her courage, and Gin took a deep breath. "We're on holiday from school right now, you know," she said in what she hoped was a casual tone. "I wondered . . . Zelig-sensei has to go to Chicago to take care of some business, and, well, I'd like to go, too. He says the museums are really spectacular and knows some people at the local art galleries . . . It'd be . . . sort of . . . um . . ."

"Like an extended field trip?" Kagome asked helpfully.

Gin winced. Cain's arms tightened in a wholly protective manner. "Uh . . . yeah . . ."

"I don't see any problem . . . Zelig-sensei would watch out for you, right?"

"O-of course," Gin blurted. "He'd be right there---well, not _right_ there, but he'd be there . . ."

"Oh, wait, your father's home . . . Let me ask him. Hold on."

Gin sighed and glanced over at Cain. "No verdict?"

She shook her head. "Mama's going to ask Papa now." Grimacing as she heard InuYasha's raised voice interrupting Kagome's dulcet tone; Gin felt her optimism slowly waning.

"You wanna go where with who and why?"

Gin winced as InuYasha's loud snarl crackled through the telephone connection. "Hello, Papa . . . I have an opportunity to go to Chicago to see the museums and art galleries with Zelig-sensei . . ."

"Yeah, your mother said that. What I want to know is why that old bastard thinks you should go with him."

"He's not old, Papa . . ." Gin trailed off, smacking Cain's chest with the back of her hand as the tai-youkai erupted in a menacing, albeit low, growl.

"Yeah, he's older than me. That makes him as old as dirt."

"Uncle Sesshoumaru is older . . ."

"Guess that makes him _older_ than dirt, then."

"Papa . . ."

InuYasha sighed, covering the receiver with his hand as he spoke to Kagome. Gin could make out the words. "Oi, wench! Hands off!"

"InuYasha, just listen to her, will you?"

"All right, all right! Damn!" He uncovered the phone. "Museums and art galleries? Sounds fucking boring to me."

"I like museums and art galleries," Gin ventured, sensing that maybe her father wasn't completely against the idea, after all.

"Is anyone else going with you? Other classmates? Anyone?"

"Well, no . . . He has business he has to take care of, and he thought I'd like the museums and stuff."

InuYasha paused for a moment. Gin had a feeling he was staring rather incredulously at the telephone. "Is he there?"

She flinched. "Yes, Papa."

". . . Let me talk to him."

Gin turned around and held out the receiver. "He'd like to talk to you."

Cain didn't look like he wanted to take the call. In the end, he sighed and held out his hand. "Zelig."

Gin shifted from one foot to the other as she wrung her hands and tried to hope for the best. Unsure if InuYasha's desire to speak with Cain was a good sign or not, studied Cain's face for any hint of what her father might be saying to him.

"I can do that," Cain rumbled, his voice almost hostile. Gin winced. "She'd be my guest, of course. I have a house there---a large one with several guest rooms."

She tugged on Cain's sleeve. He held up a hand, his scowl darkening as he narrowed his gaze and clenched his teeth together so hard his jaw ticked. "I assure you, it was not my intention to take your daughter to Chicago for her to find a date."

Gin sighed and sank into the closest chair. Given Cain's responses, she figured she might as well give up on the idea of going to Chicago with him. It irritated her enough that she stopped really listening to Cain's monologue as she snatched a magazine off the coffee table and let it fall open in her hands.

He wasn't on the telephone much longer. Dropping the receiver with a disgusted snort, Cain strode around the sofa and flopped down, bringing his feet up as he glowered at the ceiling. "What are you doing, Gin?" he finally asked when she didn't bother looking up from the magazine.

"Reading."

"You're not going to pack?"

It took a moment for Cain's question to sink in. Tamping down the cautious hope that swelled inside her again, Gin shook her head and lowered the magazine to stare at Cain. "What?"

Cain snorted again. "Pfft! Apparently I'm 'an old bastard' but since I'm tai-youkai then your father figures it's safe enough to let you accompany me to Chicago, provided I don't let you 'fucking date'." He snorted for the third time, cracking his knuckles as he flexed his claws. Gin tried not to think about what he was imagining doing with those claws . . . "And he says that I'm supposed to tell you to take a book or something so you don't get bored out of your mind."

"He said . . . I can go?"

Cain finally sighed. "Yeah, he did."

"Really? But that . . . why don't you seem happier?"

"Old as dirt, am I?" he grumbled.

Gin giggled and hopped up, perching on the edge of the sofa beside him. "I don't think you're as old as dirt."

That didn't seem to appease him.

"I can't believe I get to go with you!"

Cain grinned a little distantly as Gin grasped his hands in hers. "You'd better go pack."

"When are we leaving?"

Cain shrugged. "As soon as your uncle's plane's ready. Apparently your father has something against commercial flights."

"Uncle Sesshoumaru has specially pressurized planes," Gin remarked. "That's probably what he meant." She stood up and whirled around to head for the door. "This is great! I can't wait to go!"

He watched her leave and heaved a sigh. Gin wanted to go. She didn't see anything wrong with it, did she? Of course not. Gin was too sweet, too innocent to see the trouble of the situation. Why did he want to take her with him? Why was it so important that he would demean himself to accepting her father's insults, just to assure that she went with him?

'_That's not even the half of it, and you know it, Cain, you liar_.'

Cain stood up and shook a cigarette out of the rumpled pack in his pocket. He never smoked when Gin was around---she hated it. He always carried them around, though, just in case . . .

'_I don't know what you're talking about_,' he maintained as he lit the cigarette with a match out of a wrinkled book of matches.

'_Don't you? You know why you can't stand the idea of being separated from Gin for more than a few hours, and even that burns your ass._'

'_Maybe_.'

'_You hate the idea of sneaking around to see her, don't you? It makes what you and Gin have seem cheap and ugly, but you know, if you wanted to change it, you could._'

He winced, staring out over the city. '_Yeah_.'

Taking a long drag off the cigarette, Cain exhaled slowly, watched the smoke rise from his lips only to dissipate as it lifted.

He could do that, couldn't he? He could change the clandestine nature of his relationship with Gin. To do that, though, he'd have to break his promise, and breaking his promise . . .

That was something he just couldn't do.

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* * *

Kichiro shut off the car's engine and heaved a tired sigh as he fumbled for the door latch and got out of the automobile. 

Belle had left the porch light on for him.

Smiling wearily as he walked toward the wide stone porch, Kichiro rolled his head from right to left and back again. It had taken nearly fifteen hours of surgery, but Kelly was sleeping peacefully, and he was exhausted.

That Belle had gone home hadn't really surprised him. When he'd asked a nurse to tell her to do that, the nurse had come back with the message that Belle had already left. The surgery had gone well---so well, in fact, that he'd been able to do more of the skin grafts than he'd originally thought. With a little luck, Kelly would only need one more surgery to replace the damaged skin tissue.

All in all, he was a little exultant as he opened the door and stepped inside. The flickering light of the fireplace drew Kichiro toward the living room. His tiny smile widened slowly as he leaned in the doorway. Belle was curled up on the sofa with a thick fleece blanket tucked under her chin. Tawny skin glowing in the warm glow of the dancing flames with her hair spilling around her, she sighed and almost smiled, but didn't stir.

Kichiro ambled over to her, scooped her up as he tried not to wake her. She nestled closer as he moved toward the stairs with her in his arms.

Belle whimpered softly as he laid her on the frilly pink bed. Turning his back on her long enough to kick off his shoes and socks, he stretched out beside her and gathered her close, closing his eyes as the fragrance of her surrounded him.

She breathed softly as he stroked her hair. Her pulse pounded through her with a quiet strength, a gentle ebb. It should have frightened him, how perfect she felt in his arms. In the end it left him with a feeling of completeness---one he'd never felt the likes of before.

'_If you would have just said you were sorry to her earlier, we could have avoided all this crap, Kich_.'

He scowled at the chiding of his youkai voice. '_How was I supposed to know that was all she wanted? Most women want flowers and gifts . . . they want to know your bank account's sorry, even if you really aren't_.'

'_And since when has Belle been like most women?_'

'_True as that may be, I happen to know that Belle had a great time in New York_.'

'_Yeah, just don't blow it again. We're much happier with Belle in our bed than with her trying to gouge your eyes out_.'

Kichiro had to agree with that. The last twenty-four hours would have been amazing, if he had been here to enjoy it. At least Kelly's surgery was done. If all went well, they could go back to Tokyo next week. Now to convince Belle that she really did want to be his mate, and the sooner, the better . . . Belle didn't need to go back to that cramped little apartment. He didn't want to skulk around and hide, and he didn't want to pretend that she wasn't his just to appease her father. If it were up to him, he'd march right up to Cain Zelig and rub the tai-youkai's nose in it. Unfortunately Belle wouldn't like that; not at all . . .

It wasn't so much that he didn't want to go home. He just loathed the idea of returning to his empty house when he knew in his soul that Belle belonged there, too. As much as he missed the comforts and perceived civilization of home, he wasn't quite sure how he'd adjust to going back to living apart from Belle. He'd gotten a little too used to having her around.

'_I'll figure it out tomorrow_,' he thought with a wide yawn as his eyes drifted closed. For tonight, he'd just content himself with holding Belle against his heart. He was just too damn tired to think the rest of it through.

The sound of Belle's breathing was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_I get to go_!

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	54. Facing Reality

**_Lime Warning_**

_This is supposed to be a lime chapter; however THIS is the 'clean' version of the chapter, for those who don't care for the lime. If you want to read the lime, it isn't posted here. according to their TOS, will not allow the posting of Adult Rated Materials, so if you want to read the lime/lemon, see MY BIO ON MY AUTHOR PAGE. There is a link to my fanfics on Media Miner, where the lemons are posted. If you have trouble, you might have to adjust the settings to see ALL rated fics, as Media Miner is set to default at PG-13_.

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**_Chapter 54_**

**_Facing Reality

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_**

Kichiro rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers at Belle. "Come on, wench. You'd better get ready, because I'm going to attack you."

Belle bit her bottom lip and shrugged, shifting her weight from one leg to the other as she tugged at the hem of her shorts. "I don't want to do this," she informed him.

"I know you don't. Just do what I told you: use my weight to your advantage. Concentrate on the fluidity of motion."

"But---"

"Belle," he warned.

She nodded as her frown deepened.

'_She really doesn't want to do this_.'

'_I know_.'

'_Would it be so bad just to make sure she's always protected_.'

'_Nope, that wouldn't be bad at all, but it would be unrealistic to expect that it would be possible, don't you think?_'

Kichiro lunged at Belle. She shrieked even though she should have been expecting it, throwing her arms up over her head and cowering away. Kichiro was moving to fast to stop, and with a muffled curse, he caught the girl and managed to turn just enough to keep her from smacking into the ground. He took the force of the impact flat on his back and grunted as Belle's weight landed on him. "Damn it, princess . . ."

Belle buried her face in his chest. "You scared me," she accused.

Trying not to be swayed by the way her body trembled against him, Kichiro rubbed her back for a moment to reassure her before heaving a sigh and kissing her hair. "You knew I was going to attack you."

She shook her head but didn't answer.

"Come on, let's try it again."

She shook her head more staunchly. "No."

"No?" he echoed.

"No."

"You're not getting out of this. You need to learn how to defend yourself, at the very least."

"Can't we just . . . go back to bed or something?"

As appealing as that idea was, Kichiro sighed and gave her another comforting squeeze before gently scooting her off of him so he could sit up. "Yeah, your feminine wiles aren't going to work on me, but nice try. You've got to learn this," he teased.

"But you're supposed to protect me, right? I won't need to learn this stuff."

"You know I'll protect you, but there are times when I can't be there . . . Belle, I want to know you're safe---do you understand? I know you hate this, and I know you don't think you'll need it, but do you really think I'd insist if I didn't believe it was important?"

Belle uttered a tiny sound, almost a whimper. Kichiro tried to ignore the pricking of his conscience as he glared at the early morning sky. "I know," she agreed, her voice tiny, reluctant. "I just . . . what if I . . . what if I _hurt_ you?"

He chuckled. "You can't hurt me, princess; I guarantee it."

"Not on purpose, no . . . but what if---"

"We're training, not fighting for real. You're safe; I'm safe . . . You trust me, right?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Good, then let's see what you've learned so far."

He stood up, brushing dried grass from his hakama before offering Belle a hand to help her to her feet. Belle still looked dubious at best. Her hair, caught back in a jaunty pony tail high atop her head swung casually in the breeze and seemed completely at odds with the marked frown on her face.

Kichiro backed up, prowled around the reluctant girl. Belle kept her eyes on him, just as she had been instructed. He lunged at her again, aiming for the spot on her hip since most women's purses hung right about there. Belle gasped sharply but caught his hand and, using the wrist movement he'd taught her, sent him flying forward, tumbling onto the grass.

"Did I hurt you?" she demanded as she dropped to her knees beside his sprawled body. "Kichiro! I _broke_ you!" she wailed.

Kichiro couldn't answer right away. She'd managed to knock the breath out of him when he landed. By the time he was able to roll toward her, she was sobbing, hands covering her face as she muttered over and over that she was never, never, ever going to do this again.

"Belle, it's okay," he said. "Listen to me . . . I'm fine, see?"

She wailed louder, and he winced as the salt of her tears assailed his nostrils.

"You knocked the breath out of me, and that's good. That's exactly what you want to do if someone attacks you. Then you'll have time to get away, you see?"

That wasn't at all comforting to her.

"Belle . . . Stop crying; I'm fine."

Belle sniffled and peeked between her fingers. "I don't want to do it anymore," she whined as she threw herself against his chest. He caught her and shook his head. "I _can't_ do that again, and you can't make me."

Cursing himself for being a little too soft, as far as she was concerned, Kichiro sighed helplessly and shook his head in self-disgust. "Answer me this: are you just upset that you had to do it, or are you upset that you did it to me?"

Belle drew a ragged breath and scooted closer to Kichiro. "You," she answered. "I don't want to do things like this to you. You're going to be my mate, right? Mates don't hurt each other."

Kichiro thought that over. "You didn't really hurt me, and I want you to do this," he countered softly. "Belle . . ."

"No, Kichiro! I can't!" Her voice was taking on a panicked, screechy sound. "That would make me a bad, bad mate!"

"It's not like that, princess," he insisted but sighed as the idea of training her became less and less palatable. If it was just the idea of having to fight him that bothered her, maybe she'd agree to letting someone else train her, instead. "Okay then, what if I ask my old man to train you? Would that be more to your liking?"

His question surprised her, and she blinked quickly as she dashed her hand over her eyes. "I-InuYasha?"

"Yes . . . he trained Gin . . . there's no one better, and even if you wanted, I doubt you could hurt him. I'm pretty sure he'd do it." Even if the old man only agreed to bug the hell out of Belle's father . . . Kichiro smiled. That'd be reason enough for InuYasha to want Belle to learn, actually . . . It was a win-win situation, as far as Kichiro was concerned, and he was pretty certain InuYasha would be more than happy to train her, on that basis alone.

"I . . . I could do _that_ . . ."

Kichiro hugged her, praying that she didn't realize just how weak he was when dealing with her. "Good . . . now about that idea of yours."

"What idea?"

He gently wiped her tear-stained cheeks before tipping her chin and brushing his lips against hers. "The one about going back to bed . . ."

Belle's cheeks pinked as the first hint of a smile surfaced. "You're still tired?"

"Not in the least."

"Then . . . why would we have to go back to bed?"

"There're other things we could do in bed . . . besides sleep . . ."

"Do we need to go back inside for that? There's no one else here, after all . . ." Belle grinned and sat back, crossing her arms as she reached down to grasp the hem of her t-shirt.

"What are you---what the fuck is _that?_" Kichiro demanded, gaze coming to rest on the shiny gold loop hooked through the soft flesh of Belle's belly button.

Belle blinked and stopped, lowering her arms and leaning forward to see just what he was talking about. "Oh, that? I got my belly button pierced," she told him happily, letting go of the shirt to tweak the tiny hoop. "Isn't it cute?"

"No!" Kichiro spat, drawing back in obvious irritation. "Oh, for the love of . . . Listen, princess, that's all well and good . . . you can take it out now. Joke's over."

"Why would I take it out?" she asked slowly. "I like it."

"You _like_ it?" he blustered. "Who are you? My brother? No!"

"There's nothing wrong with doing this," she pointed out. "It's just a belly ring. It's fine."

"It's _not_ fine!" he growled. "This can't be happening . . . my mate is morphing into my twin . . ."

"That's so not funny," she argued. "I like it---I'm keeping it."

"Belle---"

"Nope. Forget it."

"I mean it . . ."

"So do I," she countered. He wasn't at all sure he trusted the sudden shift in Belle's mood. She smiled and leaned toward him, pressing her palm against his bare chest as she slowly ran her fingers down the slight vale between his pectoral muscles. "You might like it, you know . . ."

"I doubt . . . it."

"You might . . . _really_ . . . like it . . ."

Trying to ignore the touch of her hands, Kichiro shook his head stubbornly and stared at the mansion instead.

"You can't ignore me," she pointed out, slinging one leg over his as she straddled him. "You can try, but you know it's impossible."

"I'm not ignoring you."

The hot press of her lips against his throat unleashed a savage growl from him. "Belle . . ."

"Hmm?"

"We should go inside for . . . this . . ."

"Why? No one will see us. Just you and me . . . and . . ."

'_I like this girl_,' Kichiro's youkai pointed out as Belle's hand slipped to his crotch and squeezed.

'_Yeah_,' he thought as the reasons why they ought to go inside faded from his mind. She'd managed to untie his hakama and was busy pushing aside his clothes. He hissed in a sharp breath as the heat of her hand wrapped around him. '_Yeah . . . I like her, too_ . . .'

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* * *

Something was bothering Cain. Gin wasn't sure what it was or why he wouldn't tell her, but she could feel his irritation, his upset. She'd started to ask him about that on the plane. He said he had a headache, and while she supposed that could be it, he'd been pensive and terse since then, too. 

'_If you really want to know what's bothering him, maybe you should ask him, don't you think?_'

'_I tried that, remember?_' Glancing back over her shoulder with a quiet sigh, Gin stared at Cain's sleeping form in the huge bed in the middle of the massive bedroom. His mansion, located on the outskirts of Chicago, was surrounded by the forest and flanked Lake Michigan. It took nearly twenty minutes of car travel from the gates of the estate to the circular driveway in front of the mansion, and Gin hadn't missed the bored-looking youkai sitting in the guardhouse beside the heavy iron gates. Cain obviously took his security very seriously. It had surprised her later, when he'd mentioned that the mansion in Maine---the one where he normally resided---didn't have any guards or any fences.

"_Chicago's a more dangerous area," he told her as he flopped across the bed and reached out a hand for her_.

_Gin smiled, trying not to feel a little overwhelmed as she crawled onto the bed, content to let Cain wrap his arms around her just before he fell asleep_.

He'd been sleeping since then. Gin had been able to doze off and on. Sesshoumaru's plane was comfortable with the highly developed pressure control. Cain hadn't said a word, content to let her lean against him as she napped. She woke up once; looked up at him. He was staring out the window at the darkened sky, a pensive scowl on his face. When she'd asked him about it, he forced a smile, told her she was imagining things. She hadn't believed him, but she hadn't pressed the issue, either.

'_There really is something bothering me. Why won't he tell me?_'

'_Do you really have to ask that, doll? Cain never, ever tells you things that might upset you. He's a lot like your father that way_.'

'_I suppose . . . They all think I can't take it, right? They all think that I won't understand things_.'

'_No, that's not it. It's not that they don't think you'll understand, but maybe . . . Maybe they don't want you to have to _try_ to understand, is all_.'

Gin sighed.

Staring at the pre-dawn sky, Gin couldn't help but think that the old saying was right: it was always darkest just before dawn. The stillness was eerie, too. As if everything in the entire world was taking a moment to prepare for the day, not even the quiet slap of water meeting land could be discerned. No birds, no movement of the trees---nothing. She started to sigh but couldn't bring herself to break the encompassing silence. If she listened hard enough, she could hear herself blink, could hear the thumping of her heart . . . or was that Cain's?

All at once, or so it seemed, the land awakened below her: first the breeze that rifled through the trees, then the sound of the water . . . birds chirped as the first ribbons of sunlight broke over the horizon, washing the cresting waves in somber tones of violet and dusty blue. Gin smiled as her glum thoughts fell away. Impossible to be depressed, she supposed, on what promised to be a beautiful day . . .

"What are you thinking about, baby girl?"

Gin gasped softly and turned to see Cain leaning up on his elbow as the thin blankets pooled around his hips. Hair loose and mussed, spilling around his shoulders in bronze strands that seemed to glow in the dim light of the bedroom, he yawned and stretched before flopping over onto his back without taking his eyes off her. "Did I wake you?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I've told you, right? I can't sleep without you."

Gin shuffled over to the bed, sat down beside Cain to push his bangs out of his eyes. "If I asked you what was bothering you, would you tell me?" she questioned, careful to keep her tone as playful as possible.

"Nothing's bothering me," he assured her. "Well, aside from you thinking you can get up without me knowing . . ."

She shook her head, concern evident in her slight frown. "Are you sure because if something's wrong, you can tell me . . ."

He caught her hand, kissed her fingers. "Gin, don't worry, all right? Have I told you just how gorgeous you are in the morning? With your hair all messed up and your cheeks all flushed . . . you sort of look like you do right after we---"

"Cain!" she interrupted with an embarrassed shake of her head and tried to stand up.

He caught her around the waist and pulled her down on him. "Oh, no . . . you're not going anywhere . . . Didn't you know the reason I wanted you here was to keep you trapped in my bed the whole time?"

"I thought you said you have business here," she retorted, her voice deep, dark.

"Yeah, they can come in long enough for me to tell them to handle stuff . . ." he mumbled, letting his gaze fall to her lips, her throat. "Bet they all think you're sexy as hell."

"Cain!" she gasped, pushing on his shoulders as he rolled over to pin her against the mattress.

"Keep wiggling around there, baby girl, and you'll never get out of bed."

"You're such a dog," she muttered, unable to keep her flush from manifesting.

Cain chuckled as he tugged on the buttons of the shirt Gin wore to bed---his shirt, and judging from the grin on his face, as much as he professed to enjoy seeing her _in_ his clothes, at the moment, he'd much prefer to see her _out_ of them, and Gin couldn't think of a single reason to stop him.

"God, I love your body, Gin . . . did you know that?"

She shook her head, dazed by the way he stared at her. Almost childlike awe, a quiet sense of wonder as he sat back just enough to appreciate what the billowing shirt had hidden, Cain caught her hands and held them back when she moved to cover her breasts. She could feel the blush rising to the surface of her skin. Cain groaned low as her nipples puckered under his scrutiny. "Oh, damn . . ."

Closing her eyes as her body dissolved as his hands closed over her breasts, Gin reveled in the rising ache; the familiar reaction setting off a comforting lethargy, a rising swell of need. His touch was something she needed, craved, and the feel of his hair, falling over his shoulders to tickle her skin set off another wave of fire coursing through her veins.

He kissed her gently, kissed her completely. Lips warm, moist on hers as the absolute heat of his mouth scorched her, Cain's body pressed against her. She could feel every contour of him. His muscles rippled as he moved against her in an intricate dance of sinew and flesh. He didn't try to hide his need from her, pressed his hips against hers as he groaned once more, as she whimpered at the contact. Gin forced her arms to move---funny, how heavy they seemed---driven by an overwhelming desire to touch him, to love him, to show him how she felt, even if she couldn't say it out loud.

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

He collapsed against her, barely able to support his weight on his elbows. Dragging in a succession of ragged breaths, it took a minute before he could even speak. Gin ran her fingers up and down his spine, cooed in his ear as she tried to soothe him. Slowly he rose up, frowned at her as he shook his head, as he smoothed her hair back. "Gin . . . You don't have to do that . . . you don't have to . . . Come on," he said at last, unable to find the right words to say. He rolled off the bed, picked her up to carry her into the adjoining bathroom.

Settling her on the edge of the sunken tub before turning on the taps and adjusting the temperature, Cain grabbed a thick white washcloth off the rack above the tub and held it under the flow of water. He sat down beside her, pulled her into his lap and wiped her belly with still-trembling hands.

"Did I do something . . . wrong?" she forced herself to ask, wincing at the irritation on Cain's features.

"What? No . . . Gin . . . I just . . ." Cain trailed off, dropping the cloth into the water as he wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on her head. "I wasn't expecting you to do . . . that."

She shrugged, realizing that he really wasn't angry with her, but maybe he was angry with himself, even if she didn't understand why he would be. "I wanted to," she said, listening to the erratic beat of his heart. "I love to touch you, and . . . and I wanted to do it."

He chuckled a little roughly, squeezed her tight for a moment before standing up and sinking into the water without letting go of her. "You're too curious for your own good."

She giggled and kissed his cheek. "Maybe I am," she agreed as he grabbed the washcloth and squeezed water over Gin's shoulder. "You should be happy. You get to train me . . . teach me everything you like me to do."

He shook his head and heaved a sigh. "You're perfect the way you are, you know. I don't expect you to do anything . . . I just want you to let me . . ."

She twisted around to face him, capturing his face in her hands. "You make me happy, Cain. I want to make you happy, too."

A fleeting hint of sadness filtered through his gaze. He hid it quickly but not before Gin saw it. "You make me happier than I deserve to be."

"Good," she insisted, ignoring the sadness. Cain wouldn't want her to think about that, would he? "Maybe we can just worry about making each other happy . . ."

He smiled finally, tipping her chin to kiss her. "Speaking of making each other happy," he drawled, dropping the cloth to pull her close. "I think I owe you . . ."

"You don't," she argued, eyes closing as he nipped her chin, lips trailing down her throat. "But if you're going to insist . . ."

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

She found herself cuddled to him, body cradled against his as the haze of pleasure faded only to be replaced by a satisfaction so deep that it almost frightened her. He was absently rubbing her shoulder with a sudsy washcloth, and when she leaned up to look at him, his lips brushed over hers with gentle reassurance. "Can we stay like this all day?" she asked, only half-joking.

He chuckled, tweaking her nose with his before kissing her forehead. "Whatever you want, baby girl."

"Really?"

"Absolutely . . . of course, we'll both end up wrinkly . . . if you don't mind that, then I'm all for it . . ."

"Do you have plans for today?"

He shrugged, pulling Gin's hand out of the water to kiss her fingers. "Nope. My generals will be here in a few days, but until then, I didn't make any plans."

"Why do you need to meet with them?" she asked, giggling as he forcibly slipped her arms around him.

"There . . . that's better . . . and I need to meet with them because I've been neglecting my responsibilities of late . . . running around Tokyo . . . teaching this adorable hanyou girl everything I know . . ."

Gin ducked her head and smashed her face against his chest. "You can't blame that on me."

"I can, and I do . . . If it hadn't been for you in that lecture, I'd---" He trailed off and cleared his throat, body tensing as he seemed to realize what he'd almost said.

Gin sat up, caught Cain's cheek, forced him to look at her. "Is that true? You stayed . . . for me?"

He refused to meet her gaze. "I . . . No! Hell, no! I wouldn't have---That's ridiculous! Disrupting everything in my life because---"

"I see," she muttered, face reddening as she tried to tell herself not to be so silly. Men didn't stay because they met some stupid little girl, did they?

He sighed, sparing a glance at Gin as she started to rise. He caught her, pulled her back, wrapped his arms around her to prevent her escape. "Yeah," he admitted softly. "I stayed because . . . because of you."

She could see it in his eyes, how much it cost him to admit that. Torn between the things that he thought were inevitable and the things he wished he could believe was taking a hefty toll on him. Gin grimaced and hugged him. "Would it be easier for you if . . . if we didn't see each other?" she asked, unable to keep the slight tremor from her voice as she told herself not to cry.

"Probably," he admitted. "Thing is . . . easier or not, it doesn't matter. I want---I _need_---to be here with you."

She relaxed at his answer, content enough that he chose to be with her now. The future seemed too cloudy, too far away.

There'd be time enough to think about regrets then, wouldn't there?

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_He stayed for me_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	55. Cold Feet

**_Chapter 55_**

**_Cold Feet

* * *

_**

Belle rolled over in bed and leaned on her elbows to stare at the sleeping hanyou beside her. Bathed in the soft light of the waxing moon, he slept so soundly that she had to wonder if anything at all could wake him.

'_He's beautiful, isn't he?_'

Belle smiled to herself as she gently brushed his hair out of his eyes. '_Beautiful . . . yes, I suppose you could say that . . . A beautiful heart, and a hot-as-hell body_ . . .'

'_You sound so superficial, Belle. There's more to Kichiro Izayoi than his looks_.'

'_I know_,' she agreed though her smile didn't wane. '_But you have to admit, his looks are an added bonus_.'

And yet she knew deep down that it really didn't matter, how he looked on the outside. The wonder of him came from within. He was amazing, and despite his outer gruffness, Belle knew that he really possessed a gentle soul.

'_Everything I've ever thought of finding in a mate . . . Everything _. . .'

Her smile dimmed as she stretched out beside him, curled against him with her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder. She couldn't quite shake the feeling of reluctance, the one last factor that kept her happiness from being complete.

'_Daddy_ . . .'

How would Cain react, when he found out? Surely he'd be pleased. He only ever wanted her to be happy. The sense of finality about telling him, though . . . That frightened her, and as much as she adored Kichiro, as much as she had come to rely on him always being there . . . as much as she loved him . . . she loved her father, too.

Belle sat up again, leaning closer to kiss Kichiro's cheek. Careful not to wake him, she scooted off the bed, shrugged on her pale lavender silk robe, and after pulling her journal out of her nightstand, she slipped out of her bedroom and down the hallway.

Cain's room was still filled with his presence. As though he'd just left it, the feeling of security lingered. Belle smiled to herself as she hopped onto the massive bed, leaned over to flick on the small bedside lamp.

Writing in her journal had been something that she'd done sporadically but always---_always_---she'd noted the most important happenings in her life. In those pages were the scribbled memories of a lifetime of firsts. All the things she hadn't been able to tell her father; all the things she'd never said to a single soul were contained in those pages. She hadn't thought to take the journal with her to Japan. Then again, she was only supposed to have stayed there a few days. How could she have known then, that those few days would change her life?

'_Kichiro_ . . .'

Nearly four months since she'd met him; nearly six weeks that they'd been here, in Maine . . . A little over a week since they'd returned from New York . . .

Kelly's first surgery was a cautious success. She hadn't suffered any complications and seemed to be healing well. Kichiro had mentioned that they could return to Japan soon. Belle was anxious, yet reluctant to end the idyllic time they had spent together here. A return to Tokyo meant a return to her father's ever-watchful vigilance, and as much as she missed Cain, she had to admit that she wasn't sure what she'd do, once they were back, once her nights became long and lonely.

'_Kichiro gave me my first and last lesson today. I tried; I really did. I just don't like the idea of trying to hurt him. I mean, it seems wrong. I shouldn't want to throw him around, and I don't want to_ . . .' Belle stopped, tapping the end of the pen against her lips. '_I can understand his concern, but really, I trust him to keep me safe. I don't think there should be more to it than that, after all. Isn't that what mates do? Protect each other?_

'_He's so amazing. In fact, he astounds me every day. Sometimes I think he knows me better than I know myself, and that doesn't really bother me nearly as much as it should. I mean, when I stop and think about Daddy and about the things that I can't ask, it makes me wonder if Daddy realizes that I know anything at all. I hope Gin can convince him to stick around. Kichiro says it's impossible not to adore her, and I believe that. I just hope that Daddy adores her enough to want be with her. I just want him to live, even if it isn't for me_.'

Impatiently brushing away an errant tear, Belle sighed and sat up. Cain's presence was so strong in the room, and while it comforted Belle, it also made her a little sad. Sure, she knew as well as anyone, that parents were supposed to die before their children. Did it really matter when the whole idea of losing her father was something that she just couldn't stand? As much as she hated to admit it---afraid that it would make her a bad person---Belle couldn't help but feel just a little resentful, too; resentful toward a mother she didn't remember---resentful toward a woman who had a stronger hold over Cain in death than Belle had over him in life . . .

"What are you doing in here?"

Belle started and glanced up at the hanyou standing in the doorway with a marked scowl.

"I couldn't sleep," she ventured, hoping her smile reassured him. "I didn't want to wake you . . ."

"Come back to bed, Belle-chan."

She nodded and glanced at her journal. "I will," she told him, "in a minute."

"I'm awake now. You can do whatever you're doing in there," he told her.

She started to answer but paused when she noticed the irritation on his face. Glaring around the bedroom like he expected something or someone to jump out of the shadows and attack, she stifled a giggle and cleared her throat. "Are you afraid to come in here?" she asked.

"Feh! No! Hell, no! I'm not afraid of anything, least of all your father, princess."

"Then why don't you come in here and sit with me?" she challenged.

"No, thanks . . . this room reeks worse than the rest of the house."

Belle rolled her eyes and tucked her legs under her. "So you won't come in here because it smells like Daddy? Is that what you're saying?" When he didn't answer, she giggled. "Daddy's harmless! Well, maybe not harmless . . . he wouldn't hurt you, though, because you're my mate."

Kichiro didn't look impressed with her claim. He snorted again and shook his head. "I could have sworn, I told you, I'm not afraid of your old man."

"I know you're not," Belle said, waving her hand dismissively. "You sure you don't want to come in here? Daddy had this bed specially made . . . biggest bed in the mansion . . ."

The look of complete and utter distain was too funny not to laugh at. He looked like she'd just suggested that the two of them get married and ask Cain to live with them. "Oh, you've got to be joking," he growled, his tone making it clear that he didn't find the jest amusing in the least.

"So you're saying that you wouldn't make use of the biggest bed in the house, no matter whose it was?"

"Hell, no, wench!"

"Not even in your mother and father's bed?"

"_Especially_ not in my old man's bed! I was _conceived_ in that bed . . . _ugh!_"

"Now that you mention it . . ."

His skin looked absolutely sallow, and he shook his head as he gaped at the oversized bed with a horrified scowl.

"Oh, relax . . . I happen to know that Daddy just got this bed five years ago or so."

That didn't seem to appease him. Kichiro snorted and leaned against the far wall in the hallway.

"What are you doing?" she asked dubiously.

"Waiting for you."

She looked around slowly. "Are you trying to tell me that you won't come in here?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Why not?"

He sank down against the wall as a rather petulant pout surfaced. "I told you, wench . . . It reeks in there."

"But I'm in here."

"I know," he grumbled, ear laying back as he snorted in obvious disgust. "I'll stay out here; it's fine . . . Never mind me . . . Whatever."

"So as long as I'm in here, you won't come after me?"

"Don't sound so pleased, princess. I just don't want your father's stench all over me."

Belle giggled. "Oh, really . . .? Well, I happen to know that I smell a lot like my father . . . Does that mean I stink?"

"You don't smell at all like him. I've told you that, already."

Belle set her journal on the nightstand and stood up, slowly wandering toward the open doorway. "All right, you win . . . do your father and brother pout like you?"

Kichiro stood up and stalked toward her bedroom. "I do not pout," he informed her.

Belle stifled another giggle and followed him into the room. "You do, you know. It's okay, though. You're cute when you pout."

"I don't pout," he pouted.

She crawled onto the bed and laughed as Kichiro wrapped his arms around her, slinging a leg over her to pin her in place, lest she should have the urge to wander again.

He kissed her cheek. "Go to sleep, wench."

"Goodnight, Dr. Poutyface."

"Oi . . ."

She was asleep within minutes.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin giggled as she handed the plastic bread wrapper to Cain before tearing the crust into small chunks and tossing them onto the ground in the midst of the gathering of ducks.

"They're so cute, aren't they?" she exclaimed softly, keeping her eyes on the ducks.

Cain rolled his eyes. "They're ducks."

"Still! Look! They waddle!"

He chuckled as Gin swung her hand around for the bag but refused to look. He dug out another slice of bread. Gin laughed as the ducks swarmed her for the treat. Breaking up the slice of bread, she tossed it to the creatures before dusting off her hands and flashing Cain a bright grin. "Can we go buy another loaf of bread?"

"For the ducks? Tomorrow, baby girl. If you feed them too much, they'll get sick."

She nodded slowly and sighed, turning her attention back to the ducks as she lifted her hands, palms up. "Sorry . . . Zelig-sensei said no."

"Zelig-sensei," he grumbled, tossing the bag into a nearby trashcan. "Zelig-sensei, indeed . . ."

She grabbed his hand and tugged. "How about we feed me now? I'm starving!"

Cain snorted, sitting on a park bench and pulling Gin into his lap. "You just had to feed the ducks first," he complained.

"I want to eat my way around Chicago," Gin remarked with a happy sigh.

Cain tried unsuccessfully not to laugh. In the end, he snorted, sniggered, and burst into a loud chortle. "Gin, I've told you, right? Some things shouldn't be said out loud."

She blushed and hid her face against his chest. "That's not funny, Cain! I didn't mean anything bad . . ."

"I know you didn't," he told her. "What a shame that it was, anyway."

"You shouldn't have told me about American food," she accused, her voice muffled by his white linen shirt.

"Come on, then . . . Might as well start feeding you . . ."

"That's right," she agreed. "Lots and lots of food! What's the best thing to have for breakfast?"

He coughed indelicately. "You."

She gasped. "_Cain!_"

"What . . .? Oh, did you mean _real_ food?"

"Yes, you dog," she grumbled. He caught the tiny grin that lit her eyes and twitched at the corners of her lips. "Real food."

"Oh, that . . . Hmm . . . Doughnuts, of course."

"Doughnuts?"

"Then I can take you to the museum, if you want."

Gin nodded. "I'd like that!"

Cain spared another moment to hug her before he stood up, set her on her feet, and took her hand to pull her out of the park.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"I think you should help me with my research."

Belle rolled over and leaned on her elbows, trying to hide her amusement as she pushed a damp lock of sweaty hair off Kichiro's forehead. "Oh? You mean the _condom_ research?"

He grinned rather wolfishly and shrugged. "Well, sure . . . I mean, we're going to be mates eventually, right?"

"Are you sure you're not just trying to use this as an excuse to have sex?"

Kichiro looked properly offended. "Would I do such a thing?"

"Yes, I think you would."

He chuckled but didn't deny it. "Yeah, you can blame yourself, princess. I can't help it if you put these thoughts in my head . . ."

Belle blushed slightly but kissed him before she shook her head and ran her finger down the bridge of his nose. "So now you're blaming me?"

"Hell, yes, I am!"

She giggled and sat up, reaching for her robe sprawled across the end of the bed. "That figures."

He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her down onto the bed, twisting around to pin her against the mattress. "Really . . . and who was it that greeted me in her princess t-shirt and nothing else when I got back from the hospital?"

"I told you, I needed a soda, was all."

"Uh huh . . ."

"Sometimes I think you're using me for my body," Kichiro accused, nuzzling her neck as her giggling escalated.

"And this bothers you?"

"I feel so . . . debauched."

"Debauched? Oh, please!"

"Absolutely . . ." He sat up and made a face. "And now that you're satisfied---"

"For the moment," she cut in.

"For the moment," he agreed. "I need a shower."

Belle rolled over, propping her head on her hand as she watched Kichiro scoot off the bed, heading for the bathroom.

He stopped in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder at her. "You know . . . you could join me . . ."

"I could," she agreed. "In fact, I think I---" Wincing when the trill of her cell phone cut her off, Belle sighed as Kichiro shook his head. "---I think I'll answer that."

Kichiro ambled into the adjacent pink bathroom. "Suit yourself, wench."

She rolled her eyes. "Hello . . .? Oh, hi, Daddy!"

'_She's as bad as you are._'

Grinning as he adjusted the water taps and stood back to wait for the temperature to even out. '_Nope, she's worse_.'

'_Ryomaru in a skirt_.'

Kichiro made a face. '_Okay, that's not even slightly amusing_.'

'_You're going to mate your baka twin_.'

Kichiro stepped into the generous white tub and jerked the pink shower curtain closed, dunking his head under the harsh flow as he flattened his ears against his head and tried to ignore his irritating youkai voice.

'_That's damn funny, Kich . . . talk about irony, at its best_ . . .'

'_Belle's nothing like Ryomaru . . . Just because she likes to greet me in varying stages of undress_---'

'_Think about it! She does things impulsively, just like Ryo. How many times did he get you in trouble for not thinking things through?_'

'_Be that as it may, I still don't see that remarkable of a resemblance between Ryomaru and Belle . . . and I don't want to, come to think of it_.'

It was odd, or so he thought. He'd told Belle that they could go back to Tokyo in a few days, if she was all right with that. Kelly was recovering nicely, and there wasn't anything that he could do for her. He'd been in the States for nearly a month and a half now. He couldn't stay away from his practice too long, and it would take at least another three months or better before Kelly would be recovered enough to do the next operation.

He'd expected Belle to argue with him. Her friends were here, and she seemed to be so much more relaxed here than she was in Tokyo. To his surprise, she'd simply smiled and told him that she'd start packing.

So why did the idea of going back home bother him?

Rinsing shampoo out of his hair, Kichiro heaved a sigh. '_That's ridiculous! Of course I want to go home! My family, my business . . . my _life_ is there! The sooner, the better; that's what I say_ . . .'

He turned off the water taps and sighed as he pushed the curtain aside and reached for a towel. He was just being stupid; that was it. It wasn't like he hadn't realized they'd have to go home eventually. Aside from the idea of Belle having to stay with her father for the time being since she adamantly refused to let him tell Cain that Belle was going to be his mate, everything would be the same, right?

'_Nothing will change_,' he assured himself. '_Nothing at all_ . . .'

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Back to Tokyo _…?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize._

_Sue_


	56. The Other Kichiro

**_Chapter 56_**

**_The Other Kichiro

* * *

_**

Belle re-shouldered her purse as she followed Kichiro through the airport. Feeling exuberant to the point of near giddiness, she couldn't suppress the giggle that slipped from her as Kichiro shot her a lazy grin. "You're in a good mood," he commented. "You should be exhausted, shouldn't you?"

"Maybe," she agreed as her smile widened. "I can be tired later. I don't feel like it now."

"Is there a reason you're so happy?" he asked, lowering his voice as he leaned toward her to whisper his question in her ear.

Belle giggled again. "Considering what we did to pass time during the flight? I'd say there is."

He chuckled. "I can safely say that was a first for me," he remarked then grimaced. "Then again, I'm pretty sure the pilot heard you screaming . . ."

Cheeks pinking as she ducked her head for just a moment before grinning unrepentantly, Belle shrugged and reached for Kichiro's hand. He turned away before she could grab it, and she sighed as he strode toward baggage claim. '_Belle, you have no shame, do you?_'

She wrinkled her nose and giggled. '_Nope, not a bit of it_.'

'_He's probably right_,' her youkai accused. '_If the pilot didn't hear you, he'd have to be deaf_.'

'_There's nothing wrong with what we were doing_,' she argued. '_What Kichiro and I have . . . It's beautiful---and he was pretty loud, too. It wasn't just me _. . .'

'_I think he's a bad influence . . . Your future mate should be tempering your impetuousness, not encouraging it._'

'_Oh, get a grip . . . We were perfectly safe, weren't we? There wasn't a problem, and you're thinking too much._'

'_And do you think your father will approve? If he knew what you and Kichiro have been up to_---'

'_Daddy would be happy for me---after he was finished screaming at me about the impropriety of it all. In the end, he just wants me to be happy, and Kichiro . . . Kichiro makes me happy_.' She giggled again. '_Really, really happy_ . . .'

"Okay, that's taken care of," Kichiro said as he stopped beside her. "You hungry?"

Belle shrugged, glancing at the huge clock mounted on the wall. New Tokyo International Airport was always busy, and as people bustled past, Belle braced herself on Kichiro's arm. He scowled slightly and reached out to steady her, letting his hand drop away when she'd regained her footing. "Come on."

Frowning as she followed him toward the exit, Belle tried to brush aside the odd feeling that Kichiro wasn't pleased that she'd touched him.

'_No, that can't be right. Kichiro loves when you touch him . . . I mean, he was begging you to do that on the plane_ . . .'

'_That's true . . . Still_ . . .'

'_You're imagining things, Belle_.'

She bit her lip and stood silently as Kichiro hailed a cab. Maybe she was; of course she was. She had to be. Kichiro loved being affectionate with her. Hugging her as they walked through the mall, wrapping his arms around her when he'd taken her to the movies . . . In the last two weeks since they had officially started dating, he'd been attentive and sweet, kind and generous . . . Of course he wouldn't suddenly change. That notion was stupid---_really_ stupid.

He opened the door of the cab for her. Belle ducked under his arm to climb inside. After telling the driver to take them to Belle's apartment, Kichiro sat back and closed the door. "My apartment?" Belle teased.

Kichiro snorted. "You don't want to change or anything before we go?"

She shrugged and scooted closer to him. "Sure," she agreed. "So where are you taking me for lunch?"

He sat perfectly still, making no move to slip his arm around her shoulders and even seemed to withdraw a little further into the corner of the cab. "Wherever," he told her. "It doesn't matter. Pick a place."

'_Okay, now I _know_ I'm not really imagining this_,' Belle thought as she slowly shook her head. "Is something the matter?" she finally asked. "Why do I get the feeling that you're trying to avoid touching me?"

Irritation filtered into his expression but not quickly enough to hide the momentary look of shock, followed quickly by one of absolute guilt before he forced an angry bravado and snorted again. "Feh! Don't be ridiculous, Belle. I'm not avoiding a thing."

She sat back and nodded, willing herself not to be hurt by what she perceived to be a lie. "Okay," she agreed quietly. She wanted to believe him . . . "I guess I'm just being paranoid."

His smile was thin, weak. Belle grimaced inwardly and turned her attention out the window. "Don't be. I . . . wouldn't . . . _try_ to avoid you. Don't be stupid, princess."

He didn't say anything else as the taxi weaved its way through the busy streets of mid-day Tokyo. For reasons Belle didn't want to delve into too deeply, she couldn't quite bring herself to try to touch him again. Maybe it was the very idea that he might try to pull away from her again. Maybe it was the nagging suspicion that she had done something wrong. Either way, she couldn't help but feel like he was angry with her, and that thought turned her stomach. She hadn't done anything wrong, had she?

She tried not to be upset as she climbed out of the cab onto the street in front of her building. Kichiro stuffed his hands into his pockets as he ambled along behind her. "You know, I could just go pick up something," he offered. "They should be bringing your luggage by soon."

"Oh . . . Okay," she said. "If you'd rather . . ."

"Yeah, I'm kind of tired." He shot her an almost sad smile before he dug his hands a little deeper into his pockets and started to walk away.

"Kichiro . . ."

He stopped and slowly turned to look at her. Belle closed the distance between them and braced herself on his arm before brushing her lips over his cheek. Kichiro's gaze shifted around almost nervously before he quickly stepped back in retreat.

"All right," she murmured softly, pressing her hands over her chest---over her heart---as she nodded, as she fought back the rising heat that shot to her cheeks, coloring her features in a miserably embarrassed blush. "I know I wasn't imagining that. Are you ashamed of being seen with me?"

"What?" he blustered, back stiffening as he shook his head in denial. "Of course not! That's---"

"It's what? You are, aren't you?"

"No! Hell, no! Why would I be ashamed of being seen with you?"

Belle shrugged. "I don't know. You tell me."

"You're being ridiculous again." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I'll go get some lunch, and you can stop saying stupid stuff like that."

"Kiss me."

Kichiro looked confused. "What?"

Belle swallowed hard and forced herself to meet his gaze. Completely disgruntled by her simple request, Kichiro's response was more than answer enough. "If you're not ashamed, kiss me."

Planting his hands on his hips, he raised his eyebrows as he closed his eyes only to shake his head in exasperation. "I can't kiss you _here_," he growled, careful to keep his tone lowered as strangers passed by on the street.

"Sure, you can. If you're not ashamed, you can . . ."

"Listen, Belle," he said, grasping her arm and pulling her close enough to hiss in her ear. "I'm not ashamed of you, and I don't have any idea where you got such a fucking stupid idea like that, but get it out of your head, will you?"

"I got the idea from you," she retorted. "What else am I supposed to think? From the moment we stepped foot off that plane, you've pushed me away. Why?"

"I didn't push you away. I---"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she jerked her arm out of his grasp and stepped back, needing to put some distance between them before she did something she'd regret, like slap him. "So I was good enough to entertain you in Maine and during the flight but not good enough for you to be seen in public with? Do I have that right, Dr. Izayoi?"

He winced at the return of his formal name and shook his head as he grabbed her arm and tried to drag her into the apartment building.

Belle tugged her arm away again and stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. "Do I?"

"Fuck, no, wench! I never said---"

"You didn't have to say it! You didn't have to say a damn thing! I'm not stupid---or maybe I am stupid enough to believe your ridiculous lies . . . stupid enough to believe in you!"

"Belle---"

"No! If I'm not good enough to be seen in public with you, then I'm not good enough to be with you, either. Wasn't I a good enough fuck, Dr. Izayoi? That's all I am to you, aren't I? Another girl to add to your nameless collection? Go scratch another notch on your bedpost. I'm through with you."

"No! I---"

"Don't touch me!" she growled as he reached for her arm again.

He backed off, holding up his hands and glancing around to see whether or not anyone had heard her. His retort was cut off by the arrival of the airport service he'd hired to deliver Belle's luggage. They glanced at the couple rather curiously but remained silent as they dragged her luggage out of the nondescript white van.

"Just go, okay?" she muttered. "Leave me alone."

She turned on her heel and yanked the door open, showing the way to her apartment as the two delivery boys followed her without a word. Digging a handful of money out of her purse after unlocking the door, she couldn't even summon a fake smile as she tipped the young men and started to shut the door.

Kichiro caught it before she could close it in his face, slamming it back with a raised fist. Belle gasped and stepped away before the door hit her. Determined to ignore him, she grabbed the first two suitcases and stomped off toward her bedroom with Kichiro close on her heels.

"Belle, damn it, will you listen to me?"

"I think I've heard enough, thanks."

"No, I don't think you have," he countered. Grabbing her arm to swing her around, he glowered down at her as he fought to control his irritation. "Stop putting words in my mouth, will you?"

Reigning in the desire to squash his foot under the low heel of her sandal, Belle tried to pull away as Kichiro's grip tightened. "Let go."

"Not until you listen!"

"Fine, then tell me what I could have possibly misconstrued from your actions!"

He growled, and for a moment, Belle wondered if he was going to lose what was left of his temper. "This isn't Maine, Belle! In case you haven't noticed, no one runs around Tokyo holding hands or kissing in public! It just isn't done here!"

"And that matters to you? You're a self-professed man-whore! You're telling me that you've never touched someone in public before?"

His silence was answer enough.

Belle pushed against him hard enough to free herself before unlocking the first suitcase and shoving it open. "Get out, Dr. Izayoi. Just get out."

He sighed, and his tone was gentler when he finally spoke again. "Look . . . I'm a surgeon---a well known surgeon, and you're the daughter of a famous artist. Do you really think that the press wouldn't notice that?"

Belle brushed past him to hang some clothes in the closet. "Oh, please! The press doesn't have any idea who I am, even if they do know who you are! Daddy's years of seclusion ensured that. Try again or get the hell out of my home."

"Damn it, you're only seventeen . . . How the hell will that look?"

Belle snatched the velvet covered jeweler's box out of her suitcase and slowly turned to glower incredulously at the hanyou, shaking her head in disbelief. Choking out a sound that was caught halfway between a sob and a humorless laugh, she shook her head. "Only . . . so why didn't that stop you before?" she demanded. "It never crossed your mind when you took me to bed, did it? It never crossed your mind when we were alone in Maine. It never crossed your mind, at all! Now you're honestly going to say that it matters?"

"Belle---"

"I . . . hate . . . you!" she bit out, the words more cutting because of her rasping tone. She shoved the jeweler's box in his hand and pushed him toward the door. "Get out! Get. Out. I never, ever, ever want to see you again!"

"Will you just listen?"

She slapped her hands over her ears and shook her head as the first sob escaped. "I've heard enough!" she screamed. "Get out! Just get out! Take your stupid gifts, and leave me alone! _I hate you!_" She sniffled as Kichiro stepped toward her. She backed up until she bumped into the window sill. "I hate you," she whispered again, dashing the back of her hand over her eyes.

Kichiro grimaced, staring at her for a minute. Ears flattened against his head as he watched her struggle to hold in her tears, he heaved a sigh and slipped the box onto her nightstand before striding out of her room. Belle waited for the slam of the front door moments later before giving in to the angry tears that were already coursing down her cheeks.

'_How . . . could he . . .?_'

Her youkai voice didn't have any answers, either.

Belle stared at the blurry form of the jeweler's box on the table. Before she could stop herself, she grabbed the box, jerked open the window, and tossed it outside. The action brought her no comfort at all, and, crossing her arms over her stomach, she leaned against the wall, sank down in the corner.

'_Daddy . . . I want Daddy_ . . .'

An ache so deep that it opened up a deeper pain in her heart made her keen softly as she her temple fall against the wall. Not even Cain Zelig could fix this for her, could he? No one could . . . No one but Kichiro . . .

'_Kichiro . . . I thought . . . How could you . . .?_'

* * *

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* * *

Gin rolled over and sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with balled-up fists as she yawned. "I feel great!" she exclaimed softly, peering over her shoulder at the wide-awake youkai beside her. 

Cain sighed, rubbing his face with his hands before he slowly pushed himself up. "Good. Glad to hear it."

Frowning at his terse reply, Gin shook her head and flopped back onto the bed. "Are you okay? You sound a little irritated."

"Nope, just fine. Never better."

"You don't sound fine."

He forced a dim smile. "You're imagining things, Gin."

Ears flattening as she rolled to the side, leaning up on her elbow as she hesitantly reached out to rub Cain's back, she sighed, too. "If you're sure . . ."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Cain stood up and strode toward the bathroom. Gin sat up and watched him go. "Cain?" she called after him. He stopped in the doorway but didn't look back at her. "Did I do something to make you angry?"

"I'm not angry."

"You _sound_ angry."

"Nope."

"You're sure?"

"Yep."

"Thank you for taking care of me last night."

He shrugged and finally turned his head to look back at her. "Yeah, just don't eat everything you get your paws on, baby girl," he teased.

She grimaced as he chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door quietly. She hadn't meant to get a stomach ache. She hadn't realized that all the food she'd eaten yesterday would come back to haunt her. It hadn't seemed like that much at the time: an ice cream cone here . . . a huge slice of pizza there . . . countless items that really wouldn't have bothered her if she hadn't eaten them all in the same day, she supposed. By the time they'd gone to bed, Gin's stomach was starting a painful revolt against the food that she'd consumed.

Cain had been so sweet though. After giving up on trying to feed her things that he said would settle her belly, he'd gotten a small bucket of hot water and spent the evening changing compresses on her stomach and when those stopped working, he just held her, rubbing her belly as she whined and swore she was never, ever eating another thing so long as she lived.

She'd know it before, but it struck her again, just how patient Cain was with her. She'd told him that she was fine, that he should and could go get something for himself to eat. Assuring him that she would be all right, telling him that she didn't mind if he left her alone, Gin couldn't help but feel like he was suffering because of her. He'd told her not to be ridiculous; that there was no way he could just leave her like that . . .

'_That doesn't really account for his mood, does it? He seems a little irritated . . . but why?_'

Chewing on her bottom lip as she scowled at her hands, Gin couldn't figure out just why he'd be so out of sorts. '_Well, I get a little cranky when I miss a meal . . . maybe Cain's the same way_ . . .'

'_No, I don't think that's it . . . He seemed awfully tense when he went to the bathroom_.'

Gin cocked her head to the side and listened. She could vaguely discern the sound of the running shower taps. '_Still, something has to be bothering him. He's acting really strange_.'

'_You could ask him_.'

She made a face. '_He won't tell me. He'll think I'll be upset, and he hates to tell me things that upset me_.'

'_Well, there has to be a reason he's acting the way he is. Maybe all he needs is a little encouragement to talk_.'

Scooting off the bed, Gin padded over to the bathroom door and knocked before pushing it open and peeking inside. "Umm, Cain?"

"What?"

She winced at his sharp tone, at the obvious irritation in his voice but forced herself to step into the room. "I . . . well, I . . . I'm sorry I ruined your night last night."

"You didn't," he told her. "I just . . . didn't sleep very well. That's all."

"You could go back to bed," she suggested, bracing her hands to heft herself onto the marble counter.

"Gin . . . Do you always sit in the bathroom and talk to people while they're showering?"

"You want me to leave? I've seen naked men before, you know. I've seen _you_ naked before, for that matter . . ."

He sighed. "All right; suit yourself . . . I'm starting to think you're trying to kill me, but whatever . . ."

The last part of his statement was mumbled, and Gin figured he hadn't meant for her to hear it. She frowned in confusion and shook her head. "Why would I do that?"

"Do what?"

"Try to kill you."

"You're not . . . I was being stupid. Ignore me."

"Cain---"

"Gin . . ."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're in a bad mood."

"I'm not in a bad mood," he growled.

"You sound like you are."

"Well, I'm not."

"Right."

"Damn it . . ."

"I'm your friend, right? You're supposed to tell your friends things; otherwise you're not a very good friend."

"All right; all right!" Cain sighed. "Because," he grumbled, "you were squirming all night."

"I was . . .?"

"Yeah, you were . . . and you weren't feeling well, so I behaved myself, but you know, you just wouldn't stop squirming."

"I couldn't get comfortable."

"I know . . . Just forget it, okay?"

"But---"

"No, Gin, it's fine. Don't worry about it. I'll live, right?"

". . . All right."

He sighed. "You'd better get dressed and stuff. We're going to have visitors later."

Gin's ears twitched. "Visitors? Who?"

"Well, I am," he amended. "My generals are coming by this afternoon."

"Oh . . . I'll just stay up here, then."

"You don't have to hide, Gin."

"I know," she assured him. "I need to call home, anyway . . . Mama said that Papa wanted me to call so he could check up on me."

"Your father's got serious control issues," Cain grumbled.

"He does not! He just worries about me, and he is my papa . . ."

"Way to put a nice face on it, baby girl. Your father would drag you right back home if you'd let him."

Gin giggled. "That might be true, but it's only because he worries about me."

"Yeah, you're just being hopeful now. What would you do if your papa found out about us?"

"What about us?"

"What do you mean, what about us? What if he found out that you've been sleeping with me?"

". . . Are you going to tell him?"

"I'd do it in a second if I didn't think you'd be irritated with me."

Gin's smile faded as she shook her head and shrugged. "You wouldn't, you know," she said quietly. "I know you wouldn't, and that's okay."

"And why wouldn't I?"

Gin slid off the counter and padded over to the door, slipping out of the bathroom before Cain could press her for answers. '_He wouldn't tell Papa . . . because he'd have to admit things to himself that he doesn't really want to think about._'

'_What are you thinking, doll? Even if Cain can't make promises to you, you know he cares about you_.'

She smiled sadly as she wandered over to the heavy glass doors. The humidity hit her as she stepped outside onto the balcony, and Gin sighed as she watched the gardener pruning the row of hedges that lined the patio around the shimmering blue pool. '_He cares about me, yes . . . but he also cares about his promise to Isabelle_.'

'_Of course he does. If he were callous and cold enough not to, you wouldn't love him, would you?_'

Gin shook her head, lifting her face to the sky as she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. '_No_,' she agreed as a tear slipped down her cheek. '_I don't suppose I would_.'

* * *

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* * *

Kichiro knocked on the door, tapping the jeweler's box against his thigh as he waited for someone to answer. It'd been sheer dumb luck, he figured. As he strode away from the building, he'd hopped back as the box fell in front of him. He'd known Belle was furious, but so was he. Didn't she have any regard at all for how much the damn jewelry cost him? He'd bought the necklace and earrings for her, and she threw it out her window . . . 

Nezumi opened the door and blinked in surprise. "You're back?" she questioned. "Duh, of course you are . . . You all right?"

Waving off her concern as the childhood friend leaned to the side to peer up into his face; Kichiro brushed past her and stepped into the house. "Yeah, we just got back," he supplied, hoping that was enough of an answer yet knowing that the chances of that were slim and none.

Ryomaru glanced up from the video game he was playing with Toga. Wrinkling his nose as he made a point of sniffing in his twin's general vicinity, Ryomaru paused the game and dropped the controller before slowly standing up as his face registered abject disgust. "Oi! You reek!"

Toga handed his controller to Coral and stood up, too. "Hmm . . . you sure do . . ."

"I don't reek," Kichiro snarled as Sierra tugged the jeweler's box out of his hand.

"Okay, you just smell . . . different," Toga allowed.

"Different?" Ryomaru scoffed. "That's a new word for it."

"Shut up, Ryo."

"There's only two demented beings who smell that similar, and since one is male, then I'd venture you've been drooling all over the grabby wench," Ryomaru went on.

"She doesn't smell at all like her father!" Kichiro growled.

"Oh, my," Sierra muttered as Nezumi leaned over her shoulder to peer into the box. "Talk about impressive family jewels . . ."

"Damn, Kich," Nezumi agreed. "Talk about big enough to choke a horse . . ."

"What's that?" Toga asked as he strode over to the women. "Wow . . . you must have really fucked up."

"Holy balls," Ryomaru added, peeking over Nezumi's shoulder. "Is she _that_ good?"

Nezumi smacked Ryomaru's chest and shook her head. "You're such a baka," she mumbled.

"What'd I say?" Ryomaru protested. "This 'baka' is taking those cooking classes for you, wench."

"Why _are_ you taking those classes?" Kichiro couldn't help but ask.

His twin shrugged. "Sounded like a good idea," he grumbled, cheeks reddening. "Anyway, this ain't about me; it's about you and why you had to buy those."

"I think it's precious," Sierra added. "I'd be so happy if Toga bought me something like that."

"Like you need something like that, and you know, you've never acted like you _wanted_ anything like that," Toga countered.

Sierra stared at the jewelry for a moment and shrugged before leaning over to kiss Toga's cheek. "They would be pretty impractical."

"Why you buying jewelry?" Ryomaru demanded. "Men only buy stuff like that when they're in trouble or when women _think_ they're in trouble."

"Or when they're trying to get into said trouble," Toga quipped, arching an eyebrow at his cousin.

"Shut up, damn it," Kichiro grouched, fighting down the hot wash of color that seeped into his cheeks despite his best efforts to contain it. "It's not like that!"

"You can do so much better than her . . . hell, you could get a blow-up doll that'd be better than _her_," Ryomaru snorted.

"She's going to be my mate, baka!" Kichiro bellowed. The entire room fell silent, and the blush that Kichiro had been fighting shot to the fore. "Well, she was going to be . . . 'course, she says she hates me now . . ."

"Hates you?" Sierra echoed as she handed the box to Nezumi to offer Kichiro her full attention. Cassidy tugged on Kichiro's arm. He scooped up the child and smacked a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek as she squealed in delight. "I doubt it's possible to hate you . . . Ryomaru, maybe, but you?"

"I know! It's impossible, isn't it?" he joked half-heartedly then sighed. "I just don't get it. I mean, everything was fine till we came home, and now . . ." He trailed off, trying to keep his ears from flattening against his skull. It didn't work. "I don't see why she has to be so unreasonable!"

"Unreasonable, how?" Sierra asked.

Kichiro threw his hands up in a defeated gesture. "I don't know . . . she expects me to fawn all over her in public . . . She's being completely irrational, won't listen to reason . . . I don't know what to do with her."

Sierra took Cassidy and set her back on her feet before taking Kichiro's hand and tugging him over to the sofa. "Well, why don't you tell me what her problem is, exactly?"

Kichiro snorted. "She was trying to hold my hand and . . . kiss me in public. I don't like it. It's not proper."

"Damn straight, it ain't proper," Ryomaru agreed as he flopped onto the sofa beside Sierra. "Then again, since when have we been proper?"

"You're even stupider than I thought," Toga scoffed as he picked up Sierra---extra baby weight and all---and settled her on his lap.

"What?" Kichiro demanded.

Toga shook his head. "You're stupid, Kichiro---idiotic . . . foolhardy . . . mentally incapacitated . . . a few eggs short of a dozen . . ."

"Oh, I'm stupid? Why am I stupid? Because I want to be respectable?"

Sierra shook her head. "You know, Kich . . . If Toga ignored me in public, I think I'd have issues with it, too . . ."

"I'm a _surgeon_, Sierra. I have a reputation to uphold."

Nezumi sat down with a bowl of rice crackers. Ryomaru shot her a cursory glance as she chucked a cracker at her mate. He caught it in his mouth, rolling his eyes before he narrowed his gaze on her. "Well, how was it in America? Were you affectionate with her there?" Nezumi asked reasonably just before she whizzed a cracker at Kichiro. He caught it and scowled at his sister-in-law. "Nice catch."

"Knock that off," he growled after swallowing the cracker. Ever since Nezumi had realized that the twins couldn't help but catch food that was tossed at them, she'd been unbearable about it.

"All right," Nezumi agreed. "But answer the question."

Kichiro started say that there hadn't been a change. The sudden image of Belle's happy smile as he reached for her on the boardwalk at Funtown stopped him . . . the vision of her wide-eyed wonder as he took her hand and helped her into the carriage outside the New York Metropolitan Opera . . . countless memories of touching Belle and of reveling in the knowledge that she wanted to touch him, too . . .

"Yeah," he admitted quietly. "I guess I was . . . but this isn't Maine. Things are different here."

Toga snorted. "Feh! You're a baka."

"I am not the bad guy!" he insisted.

"You can't change the rules," Sierra said slowly. "You might have been more sympathetic if you hadn't tried to do that."

"You're taking her side?" he asked with a shake of his head. "What the . . .? No! Did I mention that she's only seventeen?"

"Damn, Kich . . . you didn't say _that_ to her, did you?" Toga asked with a wince.

". . . Maybe."

A collective groan echoed through the living room. The two hanyou sisters turned to stare at the adults, eyes wide with confusion. "Did Kichiro do something stupid?" Coral asked, blinking solemnly at her father.

Toga choked back a laugh and ruffled his eldest daughter's coal black hair. "No, baby . . . at least, nothing he can't fix."

"I can fix it?" he couldn't help but ask.

Toga shrugged as he waved at the game in an effort to distract his children. "Sure, you can. Go tell her you were wrong."

"But I _wasn't_ wrong," he growled.

"Nope, you were absolutely right," Ryomaru agreed. "I mean, what the fuck is she thinking? You're famous. Not many folks in Tokyo don't know who you are. Having a grabby wench like her pawing you constantly . . . Feh! I know I'd hate that."

"It isn't that bad," he grumbled. "It's not like she spends her time trying to get to my---"

Loud throat clearing from Toga cut Kichiro off.

"No, it's absolutely that bad!" Ryomaru went on. "I mean, hell, she grabbed my ears without even realizing that I wasn't you. Who's to say that you won't be somewhere all prim and proper with the wench grabbing your ears . . . or other . . . parts . . .?"

Kichiro snorted. "There's a huge difference between holding hands and kissing my cheek and what you're talking about."

Ryomaru chuckled suddenly. "Yeah, there is, ain't there?"

Kichiro blinked slowly and groaned, realizing too late that his idiot brother might not be as much of an idiot as he thought before. "Oh, hell . . ."

"You know, I can't believe I'm going to say this," Nezumi mumbled, "but . . . Ryo's got a point."

Ryomaru looked completely smug. "That's 'cause I'm the _smart_ twin."

Nezumi rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, he does," Sierra agreed. "Kich . . . do you want to fix it with Belle?"

Kichiro shot the women a look that stated just what he thought of that idea. "Of course I do."

"Then let her hold your hand. Kiss her in public. Let her feel like . . ." Toga trailed off, unable to come up with the right word for his thoughts.

"Like a princess," Kichiro mumbled as he grabbed the jeweler's box and opened the lid to stare at the opulent jewelry inside. "Like _my_ princess."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_Well, I fucked up _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	57. Meeting the Troops

**_Lime warning_**

_This is supposed to be a lime chapter; however THIS is the 'clean' version of the chapter, for those who don't care for the lime. If you want to read the lime, it isn't posted here. according to their TOS, will not allow the posting of Adult Rated Materials, so if you want to read the lime/lemon, see MY BIO ON MY AUTHOR PAGE. There is a link to my fanfics on Media Miner, where the lemons are posted. If you have trouble, you might have to adjust the settings to see ALL rated fics, as Media Miner is set to default at PG-13_.

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**_Chapter 57_**

**_Meeting the Troops

* * *

_**

Cain knew the generals were thinking things. He could tell from the slightly distracted way they all kept turning to glance at the door that they were fully expecting someone else to walk into the room.

'_You know who they're waiting for_.'

He cleared his throat and slouched down in his chair. '_Yeah, I do_.'

'_You going to go get her?_'

'_Maybe . . . if they ask_ . . .'

'_You're enjoying this, aren't you?_'

'_Who? Me?_'

'_Yeah, you . . . you're enjoying the idea that they're all squirming like worms on fishing hooks because they can smell her . . . all over you_.'

'_There's that, too,_' Cain agreed.

"All right," Ben Philips said with a shake of his unruly black hair. The panther-youkai held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Who is she?"

Cain almost smiled at his highest ranking general. "She?"

Two scowls, one snort, two grunts, one set of raised eyebrows, one slow shake of the head, and one ticked off sigh greeted Cain's evasion. "With all due respect, Zelig, we're all youkai here. We can smell her. We'd simply like to . . . _meet_ . . . her."

"Did you really need to demand this meeting to discuss the girl I brought with me?" Cain countered.

Ben grinned. "I'm sure we'd all concentrate better if we had our curiosity appeased."

Cain steepled his fingertips together and tapped them against his lips in a fair affectation of Sesshoumaru Inutaisho. "I assure you, she's not a sideshow freak or anything. You don't really need to meet her."

He received another round of the disbelieving responses. Cain sighed and stood up. "All right, but be nice. She's really sensitive about the way she looks."

"Why's that?" Ben asked mildly.

"Harelip . . . Really awful. Oh, and a lumpy sort of growth on her back---like a camel. Just don't stare."

Striding out of the room before he the smile that threatened broke over his features, Cain pulled the library door closed behind him and headed for the stairs.

'_Gin's going to be mad at you for that_.'

Cain chuckled. '_Probably_.'

'_A harelip?_'

'_And a hunchback_.'

'_Yeah, she'll kill you_.'

'_Nah . . . Gin's got a good sense of humor. She'll think it's funny_.'

'_Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that, Zelig. You're trying to get us both killed, aren't you?_'

'_You, maybe . . . She won't kill me_.'

'_If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me._'

'. . . _I'm not scared of you_.'

'_Pfft_.'

Gin was sprawled on her stomach across the huge bed with her feet kicked in the air as she flipped through one of Cain's old art journals. He leaned in the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as his smile widened. Glancing up and casting him a bright grin, she rolled over and sat up. "Is your meeting over?"

Cain shrugged. "Nope."

She glanced around like she was looking for something. "Then what are you doing up here?"

Pushing himself away from the doorframe, he ambled over and grasped her hands, tugging until she finally scooted off the bed and stood up. "What are you doing?"

"They're youkai," he drawled as he headed for the door with Gin in tow.

"I figured as much."

He started down the stairs without letting go of Gin's hand. "Yes, well, they can smell you, and they won't give up till they meet you."

Gin gasped softly and tried to tug her hand away. Cain's grip tightened as he kept moving down the stairs. "Cain, I can't meet them! Look at me!"

He stopped long enough to turn around and give her the once-over. "Is there a problem?"

She wrinkled her nose, cocking her piggy-tailed head to the side as she tried to discern if he was teasing or not. "At least let me go change!"

Wisely stifling his amusement at the pink baby-T that proclaimed her 'baby girl' and the pale blue jeans shorts that hugged her hips like a second skin, Cain shrugged and grabbed her hand again. "You're fine . . . just don't bend over in front of them. Old Ben's got a heart condition, and you'll kill him. Talk about older than dirt . . ."

Gin jerked her hand away as her cheeks blossomed in embarrassed color. Cain caught her before she could run back to their room. "No, no . . . at least let me take my hair down!"

Cain tugged on one of her piggy tails and chuckled. "No way. You're perfectly adorable, and if they don't think you are, I'll be happy to inflict some bodily damage."

Her smile was self-conscious but at least it was there. "Are you sure they won't laugh at me?"

"Of course they won't." Cain cleared his throat and prayed that his men had enough sense not to tell Gin what he'd said about her appearance. '_Nope . . . they just might ask how you got rid of the harelip . . . that's all_ . . .'

Gin's hand was shaking as they neared the closed library doors. Cain stopped and let go of her only to put his hands on her shoulders. "It's okay, Gin. They're just a bunch of stuffy old youkai. They'll love you just like I---" Cutting himself off as he jerked back in surprise, Cain grimaced as Gin's hopeful expression grew a little more guarded. He sighed.

"We'd better go in before they start thinking that you ran away," she teased, the falsely bright tone of voice chafing Cain. He could have kicked himself for the slip. Gin, however, seemed prepared to pretend she hadn't understood it. He jerked on the doorknob as Gin slipped her hand into his once more.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Cain muttered as he strode into the room.

The five generals and three hunters shifted in their chairs and leaned to one side or the other, as though they were trying to see something . . . or someone . . .

Cain peeked over his shoulder and shook his head as Gin scrunched up her shoulders and tried her hardest to merge her tiny body into his back. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Hiding."

"Gin . . ."

"They're . . . big."

"I'm bigger."

"But you're not intimidating."

Cain snorted. "I beg your pardon."

"You know what I mean."

"Gin, come out from behind me."

". . . No."

"You'd better before they start thinking you've got . . . a harelip or something . . ."

"Cain!"

He tugged on her hand but the girl wouldn't budge. "She thinks you're intimidating," Cain remarked as he rolled his eyes.

Ben leaned further in his chair, and for a moment, Cain worried that the old panther would topple out of his seat. He could tell the very second that Ben got a good look at Gin, though. The youkai's eyes lit up in quiet approval, and he slowly nodded as a friendly smile surfaced on Ben's face. Another glance behind himself confirmed what Cain suspected. Gin was peeking around him though she had yet to completely show herself. Cain tugged her hand again. This time she stepped out. "Gin, these are my generals and hunters. This is the great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, ferocious and virile North America tai-youkai, Cain Zelig."

Gin gasped.

"What's that?" Ben asked, coughing indelicately to cover his amusement.

"She's me," Cain answered.

"She's . . .?"

"Oh, uh huh. You are, right, baby girl?"

Gin's face was scarlet as she tried to hide again. He caught her and kept her from running. "It was a joke," she muttered.

Cain chuckled. "I thought it was funny."

"I'm going to get you," she grumbled.

"Promise?"

"Cain!" she hissed.

"All right, seriously . . . This is Gin Izayoi."

Gin clasped her hands before her and bowed though her cheeks were still washed in the lingering blush. "Hello."

"That's Ben---my oldest general. He was interim tai-youkai while I fostered with your uncle . . . Martin Sanstrom, head of the west costal division . . . Jared Brantley, Canadian region . . . Steve Vasquez, Mexico . . . Marshall Billings, southern states . . . and those three are my hunters . . . Moe, Larry, and Curly."

Gin choked and shot Cain a near-panicked glance. He chuckled. "Cain!" she hissed from between clenched teeth.

"Yes, Gin?"

She shook her head.

"No, seriously . . . That's Moe, and that's Larry . . . and that's Cartham, but I doubt he'd care if you wanted to call him 'Curly'."

"You can call me anything you'd like," Cartham remarked, much to the other men's amusement. The hunter looked wild, gruff. The chains dangling from his leather jacket rattled when he moved, and he seemed completely out of place in the understated elegance of Cain's study. Gin's cheeks colored but she managed a weak smile.

"I'm so sorry . . ." she apologized with another bow.

Cain caught her arm and stopped her. "Okay, you've met her," he grumbled as he pulled her across the room. There was only one chair left---his. He sat down and pulled Gin into his lap, wrapping his arms around her before she could try to get up. "Can we get back to business, then?"

"Izayoi . . ." Ben drawled slowly. "Who is your father, m'dear?"

Gin cleared her throat. "InuYasha," she supplied.

Her answer was met by a round of 'ahhs'. "InuYasha? The angry hanyou?" Marshall asked.

Gin frowned. "My papa isn't angry . . ."

Cain snorted. "Gin, have you _met_ your papa?"

Gin shot him a dark glance. "Now, that's a silly question."

"Then you know he is angry _all_ the time."

"No, he's not! He's---"

"Oh, your brother is Ryomaru the hunter," Cartham interrupted, staving off the argument that Gin had been ready to start.

"Have you met him?" she asked instead.

"Yeah. He's an interesting one . . . a little angry, too."

"Izayoi . . . Izayoi . . . Do you have another brother?" Jared questioned.

Gin nodded. "Yes, Kichiro."

"Yes, yes, the surgeon, right?"

"Ah, the one who refined youkai markings. Very nice," Ben agreed.

"As interesting as the Izayoi family is," Cain broke in, "can we please get back to business?"

"Do you want me to leave?" Gin whispered.

Cain's arms tightened as Ben dug out a portfolio with the papers that needed Cain's immediate attention. "Absolutely not," he told her. "If I have to suffer, you do, too."

Gin sighed but giggled, relaxing against him as she wrapped a lock of his hair around her finger. "Okay," she murmured. "Wouldn't want you to suffer alone."

Cain grinned and leaned his chin on her shoulder. For some reason, having Gin settled on his lap made the dull, dry meeting about the best way to handle a couple renegade cougar-youkai seem a lot more bearable . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle ran a delicate claw around the silhouette of the marble sculpture as she stifled a sigh. '_Daddy didn't take Mother with him_ . . .' 

She wasn't sure what that meant. Cain had taken Gin with him but had left the unfinished sculpture of Isabelle behind. It seemed like a positive development.

Then again, she'd believed that things between Kichiro and her were positive, too.

Belle sniffled and shook her head, telling herself over and over, not to cry. Crying wouldn't help anything. It wouldn't do any good. She'd indulged herself for awhile as she'd scoured the street for the jeweler's box she'd impetuously heaved out the window.

She couldn't find it, not that she had actually believed she would. Someone probably picked them up. They'd have been stupid, not to. Those jewels were worth more than some people made in ten years, and she'd tossed them out the window.

Kichiro was going to kill her, if he ever talked to her again.

She was wrong, wasn't she? She shouldn't have gotten so angry. Kichiro . . . He was right, wasn't he? He was a product of Japanese society. She couldn't really expect him to change.

Belle shook her head. It wasn't really as though she expected him to change. That was the problem, wasn't it? She hadn't wanted him to change. Thoughtful, attentive . . . everything she loved about him was the things that somehow disappeared the second they'd stepped off the plane at New Tokyo International Airport.

But there was more than that to it.

She jumped and squeaked, whipping around to stare at the telephone as it shattered the silence in the apartment. Standing, waiting, making no move to answer it, she waited for the machine to answer. "Hey, Bellaniece, it's Daddy. I was just calling to make sure you made it home safely. Give me a call later. Let me know you're okay. Bye."

Belle started to stumble toward the phone but stopped. Daddy couldn't fix it; not this time. She only wished he could.

The knock sounded on the door, and Belle smashed her fist to her lips to keep from uttering a sound. '_Kichiro . . .?_'

She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. It seemed as though everything inside her was calling out to him, she felt the draw of his youki, Belle shuffled forward, flattened her palms against the solid steel as she closed her eyes, as she pressed her forehead against the unforgiving door.

Kichiro kept knocking, more of a pathetic cadence, like he didn't really expect that she'd let him in. "Belle . . . I'm sorry . . ."

Wincing as the resigned tone of his soft voice permeated the door, Belle felt her throat constrict, nostrils tingling, lip quivering, the sting of tears burning the back of her eyelids. "Kichiro . . ." she whispered.

"If you're there," he said as he kept knocking, "if you can hear me, I'm sorry . . . Please . . . just open the door?"

It was more than she could stand. Twisting the deadbolt and slowly turning the knob, Belle pulled the door open. The stout brass chain impeded the movement. Belle peeked through the crack. Kichiro wouldn't meet her gaze. "What do you want?"

"Belle, I . . . Will you let me in? Let me explain?"

She shook her head. "Just go home, can't you? You could . . . Turn around and walk away. I don't . . . I don't want to talk to you right now . . ."

"I was . . . stupid . . . I didn't . . . I never . . ." He sighed. "I'm not so good at this, all right? I'm sorry."

"And you think I am?"

"Better than I am, or so it'd seem . . ."

"Kichiro . . ."

"Belle, listen . . . I just . . . I'm sorry."

She looked away, crossing her arms over her chest as she tried to choke down a few pesky tears that were trying to escape. "I'm used to guys treating me like a pretty little thing that hangs on their arm and giggles at their jokes. I'm used to being put second and forgotten like . . . like some stupid little toy. I'm used to guys just wanting to get off without doing a damn thing for me, but I've never thought that any of those guys were ever ashamed of having me around."

"I'm not ashamed," he insisted.

Belle shook her head. "I've never been treated like I wasn't good enough, and coming from you? If I'm good enough to share your bed, then I'm good enough to seen with, Dr. Izayoi, and I hate that you make me think that maybe I'm really, really not."

"Belle, no! It's not like that! I never meant to . . . If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be you. I'm an ass, and I . . . Just open the door . . ."

"Go home, doctor. It's been a long day, and maybe . . . maybe we've spent too much time together lately."

"A lifetime won't be too much time with you, princess. Open the door, please."

"I can't," she whimpered. "I . . . I threw it out the window."

Kichiro sighed and pulled the jeweler's box from his jacket. "This, you mean?"

Belle choked on a sob and pushed the door closed, fumbling with the chain as her vision started to blur. It took about ten tries with her clumsy fingers before she managed to unhook the chain. Jerking the door open once more, Belle stumbled back as Kichiro fell backward, lying prone on the floor at her feet. "What are you doing?" she sniffled, dropping to her knees as she gently lifted his head, scooting forward to cradle him in her lap.

"I didn't think you were going to open the door," he admitted. "Belle . . . I'm sorry. I just . . . I've never . . . I've never had a real girlfriend before, not ever. I'm not so good at this."

"I'm glad you came back," she admitted, stroking his cheeks with the palms of her hands. "I'm sorry, too. I don't hate you. I can't hate you. You're my . . . mate."

He smiled bashfully, his cheeks pinking slightly at the mention of being his mate---his destiny. "So . . . you hungry?"

Belle leaned down and kissed him. "Are you buying?" she teased.

"Of course. I'll take care of you, remember?"

"And I'll take care of you, too."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"You do realize that you turned every last one of my men against me." 

Gin glanced up from the email she'd been composing to her parents to glance at Cain. Lounging casually in the doorway with his hands jammed into his pockets and attempting to look stern, he shook his head at her and slowly wandered into the room. She hit 'send' and pushed the keyboard shelf in. "What do you mean?"

"They'd turn on me in an instant if you asked them to," he grouched.

"That's not true," she argued but couldn't contain the amused little grin that surfaced. "I liked them."

"You gave them my cake," Cain pointed out.

"I only gave them what was left of your cake from last night, and then I made you another one."

"It was _my_ cake."

"I was being a good hostess," she told him.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Save your excuses for the judge."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"You don't sound sorry."

"But I am; I promise."

"How sorry?"

"Really sorry."

"Really, really sorry?"

"Really, really, _really_ sorry."

"Sorry enough to . . . let me have my way with you?"

Gin giggled as Cain strolled around the desk and pulled her chair out, spinning it around only to catch the armrests as she laughed louder. "I always let you have your way," she said.

"I've got you trapped, Gin," he countered as he leaned in closer. "There's no escape."

"Would I want to?"

"You might."

"Why's that?"

"Because you smell good enough to eat."

Gasping as her breath caught, as the kindling fire lit in the depths of his gaze, Gin leaned forward as Cain grasped the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head. Fingers shaking slightly as he worked the button on her shorts, Cain didn't lower his eyes. Slipping his hands under her bottom to bring her up off the chair, he caught the waistband and gently pulled the shorts along with her panties off, too. "Why are you shaking, baby girl?"

Shaking her head as words failed her; she slumped back in the chair, closing her eyes as the heat of Cain's hands closed in over her silk-clad breasts. If she listened closely enough, she could hear the blood singing in her veins. Uttering a sound not unlike that of a contented cat, she arched her back as her nipples contracted, as a million ripples surged through her.

"Tell me what you want, Gin," Cain murmured as his fangs grazed over her neck.

"You," she whispered as her arms wrapped around his neck, as she sank her fingers into his hair. The simple black tie he'd used to secure his hair fell away with one tug, and she shivered again when it spilled over her hands, brushed against her arms. Sweltering breath on overheated flesh, gentle pressure on sensitive nipples . . . Cain's body was electric, surging against her, flowing like the tides.

"What do you want me to do?" he demanded, his tongue darting against the pulse in her throat.

"I . . ."

"Hmm?"

"Anything . . . Everything . . . I'm yours . . ."

He moaned at her answer as his arms slipped around her to pull her forward. Letting her lean against his chest as he carefully unsnapped her bra, he tossed it aside before scooping her off the chair and carrying her over to the sofa.

His hands left her; the soft rustle of fabric filling her twitching ears. Gin rolled over onto her belly and leaned on her elbow as she opened her eyes. Cain removed his clothes in short order before dropping to his knees beside her. "Damn . . ."

She peeked over her shoulder as he ran his hands down her back, fingers splayed, as though he had to touch every bit of her skin as he possibly could. Folding her arms to cradle her head, Gin closed her eyes, allowing the unhurried strokes to soothe her as a spiraling ache built upon itself.

Lethargic kisses rained down on her, the dart of his tongue swirling around her shoulder blades. Lips as soft as a summertime breeze danced over her skin. Belly lurching in reaction to the combustion where their bodies met, she whimpered, moaned, rose to meet him.

He stayed her with a quiet growl when she tried to roll over. Hands caressing her bottom with gentle pressure and subdued strength, he kissed his way down her spine, along the small of her back, up the soft swell of flesh. He grasped one side in each of his hands, squeezed firmly. Kneading the firm muscles lying below the taut flesh, he raked his fangs over her, nipped her as she gasped, as she shuddered. Tongue soothing away the violent shock, Cain rumbled a low moan. "Lift your ass," he commanded.

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

"Touch me, Gin," he implored her, his quiet entreaty breaking through the mental fog.

Taking a moment to gather her wits, Gin pushed herself up, turned around to face him. His eyes were darkened to nearly black. Staring at her with a fierceness that she could feel to her very core, Cain reached for her hands, grasped her wrists, pressing her palms against his chest. He groaned at the contact, eyes drifting closed. Gazing in wonder as his muscles rippled under her fingers, overcome by the wicked desire to taste him, she leaned toward him, pressing open-mouthed kisses over his skin. An overwhelming sense of discovery swept through her as he sat back, supporting his weight on his hands. Arms bulging, strained, as though it took every ounce of self-control he had, as his body broke out in a sheen of perspiration, he groaned softly. Amazing, the feel of his satiny skin under her nimble fingers . . . Tracing the ridges of his muscles as his groans grew into near-whines, Gin laughed weakly, outlining the teal crests on his abdomen with her claws.

"Gin . . ." he gasped, face contorting in a tortured. "God . . ."

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

"Why did you . . .?"

She shrugged, letting him pull her close against his chest as he collapsed onto the carpet. "Because," she answered, tangling her fingers into his hair. "I wanted to know you, the way you know me."

"Gin . . ."

"You were right, you know," she murmured, closing her eyes as sleepiness wrapped in the warmth of repletion seeped over her.

"About what?" he asked, idly tracing circles on her shoulder.

She smiled. "It wasn't an ugly thing at all . . ."

"You're beautiful; did you know that, baby girl?"

She leaned up to kiss his cheek before settling back against his shoulder once more. "So are you, Cain Zelig."

Feeling the warm pressure of his lips on her forehead, she fell asleep with a secretive little smile on her face.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_We'll take care of each other_.

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	58. More Evidence

**_Chapter 58_**

**_More Evidence

* * *

_**

Belle cast Kichiro a suspect glance as he thumbed through the newspaper and studiously avoided her gaze.

"What about Tenkozen?" she suggested, pointing at a large ad proclaiming the new-age restaurant to be one of Tokyo's finest.

Kichiro didn't even glance at the ad. "I've heard iffy stuff about that place."

"That one, too?" she questioned. "Are you sure you're not just pulling my leg?"

"If you want to go there, I'll take you, but I've heard they serve shady stuff . . . like rat . . ."

Belle grimaced. "That's disgusting! They can't serve that stuff! They're one of the most expensive places in Tokyo!"

"I'm just telling you what I've heard," he replied neutrally. "Don't shoot the messenger."

"So Tenkozen serves rats . . . Elorus doesn't sanitize their dishes . . . Kingston serves leftover appetizers . . . Why do I have the feeling you don't really want to take me out to dinner?"

"I want to take you out, princess," he said, glancing up from his paper as he shrugged offhandedly. "I figured you'd want to know this before you were served rat ala carte."

Shaking her head as she sat back and crossed her arms, Belle nodded toward the classified ads and sighed. "So where do you want to go, then? Any suggestions?"

Kichiro's ears twitched as he buried his nose behind the business pages. "Where ever you want. I told you that."

Belle tugged the paper out of his hands and wrinkled her nose. "You told me that just before you summarily discounted every suggestion I made," she reminded him. "You just pick a place. I'm easy to please . . ." She giggled as Kichiro leaned forward, grasping her hands and pulling her out of her chair and into his lap. "At least, I'm easy to please when it comes to food."

Dragging his claws up her leg with a lazy grin, Kichiro chuckled when Belle shivered prettily, a light flush creeping over her skin as she melted against him. "You're so agreeable when you want me," he murmured in her ear. "Why is that?"

"Don't know what . . . you're talking about," she countered, her voice little more than a husky whisper. "I'm humoring you."

"Like you humored me in my office today?"

Belle giggled weakly at the reminder. She'd come in to tell him that one of his appointments cancelled. He thought she looked a little out of sorts and figured he ought to give her a thorough work-up. Not even the unexpected visit from InuYasha had stopped him. Kichiro had been busy at the time, but he had spared a moment to wave a hand at his father without looking up from his task while Belle rubbed his ears and tried her hardest not to make a sound. He still wasn't sure if she knew they'd been spotted. InuYasha's disgusted snort was hard to miss. Then again, Belle had other things on her mind at the time . . . All in all, Kichiro figured it'd be the last time that his father barged into his office without knocking.

"I thought you said you were hungry," Belle said, struggling to open her eyes.

"Starving."

"Then . . . shouldn't we . . . go?"

Grasping her bare hip under the billowing fabric of her miniskirt, Kichiro chuckled again when she moaned softly. "I didn't say what I was starving for, did I?"

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"Is it working?"

Belle's stomach growled before she could answer. Kichiro heaved a defeated sigh and pulled his hand out from under her skirt. "All right," he grumbled as Belle leaned against him for a few minutes while she regained her composure. "What's the matter, Belle-chan? Can't you stand up?"

"You're such a jerk," she mused without a trace of rancor.

"I know," he agreed.

Belle stood up and smiled as Kichiro got to his feet and took her hand. "Come on, princess. Can't have you hungry."

"You take such good care of me."

He snorted. "It's entirely selfish," he assured her. "Can't have you falling asleep in the middle of anything, now can I?"

She blushed and ducked her head but laughed. "As if I would do that."

"Glad to hear it. I wouldn't think I was losing my touch." He grinned wolfishly and dragged her toward the door.

Belle stepped outside behind him, waiting while he locked the door before the two headed for Kichiro's car. "There's nothing wrong with your touch."

Kichiro laughed. "Yeah, I didn't think I heard you complaining."

Belle ducked under his arm and slipped into the passenger seat before Kichiro pushed the door closed and loped around the vehicle to get in, too.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain grunted as he jerked awake from a blissful slumber to the unpleasant sound of his ringing cell phone. "Hello?" he muttered as he rubbed his face with his free hand before glancing at the clock and smothering a low growl. '_Four in the morning? Someone had better be dead _. . .' 

"Zelig."

Blinking slowly as he tried to untangle Gin's fingers from his hair, Cain scooted toward the side of the bed and sat up. Protesting the loss of his warmth, she whimpered. He rubbed her shoulder to quiet her. "Sesshoumaru? Is there a reason you're calling me at four in the morning? What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing . . . Tell me something."

Cain lowered the receiver to stare at it for a moment before bringing it back to his ear and stifling a sigh. "All right."

"Did my niece enjoy feeding the ducks?"

"Feeding the . . .?"

"Yes, the ducks."

"Yeah . . . does it matter? How did you know about that?"

Sesshoumaru uttered a terse sound, almost a growl, almost a snort. "I have my sources. In any case, I imagine you have a reasonable explanation about licking Gin's cheek?"

Cain grimaced. After leaving the Chicago Museum of Modern Art, he bought her ice cream, and in one of their moments of goofing off, Gin had smashed her cone on his chin. In retaliation, he had done the same with his on her cheek. She didn't have a napkin, so he had cleaned her up by licking the ice cream off her cheek. "She dropped her napkin," Cain grumbled.

"I see . . . Do you have any idea how irritated her father would be if he found out about these things?"

"Do you think I care how irritated her father would be if he found out about those things?"

"Zelig . . ."

"I'll ask again: how did you find out about this stuff?"

Sesshoumaru hesitated before answering. "It might interest you to know that I have men who monitor all the major news venues in the world. There are certain names that set off the system, and thanks to those baka twin sons of InuYasha's, one of those is 'Izayoi.' Imagine my surprise when the notification I received was about one Izayoi _Gin_ instead of Gin's more notorious brothers."

"Enough of the riddles, Sesshoumaru. What'd you hear?"

"It wasn't what I heard, Zelig. It's what I _saw_---and how much I had to pay for them."

"Pay for . . . what?"

"They're very nice, really. The two of you look happy enough, considering she's sitting on your lap by the duck pond, and you're licking her cheek in the other . . . Well, you understand that I could not in good conscience let these pictures hit the papers, don't you? You might want to check your email later. I forwarded them to you though you'll understand if I wish to keep the originals, for now . . ."

"What the . . .? Which paper?"

"_The National Enquirer_," he answered without missing a beat.

"Shit."

"Yeah, shit."

"That doesn't sound so bad," he commented, idly scratching his chin.

'_Sure_,' his youkai prodded. '_They could have found that painting you did of her_ . . .'

Cain shifted guiltily. '_Thanks for reminding me_.'

'_Any time_.'

'_Shut up_.'

Sesshoumaru sighed. "Just what do you think you're doing with her?"

Cain grimaced, peeking over his shoulder as Gin sighed and rolled over but didn't open her eyes. "It's complicated," he hedged, lowering his voice in hopes that she'd stay asleep.

Sesshoumaru digested that in silence. Cain was starting to wonder if he was going to answer at all when he finally spoke again. "Gin's a rare thing, Zelig. Like all rare things, she's been sheltered and protected. Her mother . . . her father . . . her brothers . . . even Kagura and I have done it. She's naïve. She has no idea how the world works."

"You think I don't know that?" he asked, irritation clouding his voice, dropping his tone to barely above a harsh whisper.

"Cain? Who's that? Can't you---" Gin yawned, interrupting herself as she scooted closer to him. "Can't you tell them to call you back later?"

He winced as he quickly covered the telephone with his palm, lowering the receiver to force a dim smile. Peeking over his shoulder at the still-sleepy young woman, he shrugged. "It'll only take a minute."

"Okay," she agreed, casting him a sleepy grin. "I'm cold . . ."

Cain drew a deep breath before uncovering the telephone and hesitantly lifting it back to his ear again.

"Please tell me that wasn't who it sounded like."

"All right," Cain agreed slowly, "it wasn't who it sounded like."

"Zelig---"

"You obviously know that we're close," Cain growled. "Just leave it alone."

"I will not leave it alone. Did you not hear what I said to you? Gin is---"

"I don't need you to tell me what she is or isn't. What goes on between us---It's none of your business, Sesshoumaru."

"Uncle Sesshoumaru?" Gin questioned behind him. He felt the slight tremor in the bed as she sat up and touched his shoulder. "Cain, can I talk to him?"

He was about to tell her 'no'. Caught off-guard by the determination in her gaze, Cain sighed and held out the telephone despite his own reservations.

"Uncle? Is everything all right there?" She paused for a moment, wrapping a long lock of hair around her finger "We're not . . . sleeping together," Gin said, inflicting enough disbelief into her tone to reassure her uncle. "There was a _mouse_, and you know I hate mice."

Cain scowled. She was lying, and doing it quite convincingly, so far as he could tell. '_When did she learn to lie like that?_' he asked himself as she laughed at something Sesshoumaru must have said. '_Gin can't lie . . . I thought she couldn't, anyway_ . . .'

"Don't be silly!" she said, waving her hand as though her uncle could see the gesture. "There's nothing going on! He's just my teacher; that's all . . ."

Staving back a vicious growl at Gin's reassurances, Cain tried not to be irritated at her insistence that he was nothing more than her teacher. She nodded a few times and finally sighed as her smile faded and she cleared her throat. "I know, Uncle. I promise. Bye."

She clicked off the phone but didn't turn around to look at him. Cain stood up and prowled around the room with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his features.

"It's okay, Cain," Gin said quietly, drawing the sheet up over her body as she tucked her legs in beside her. "He believed me."

"When did you learn how to lie?" he demanded softly.

Gin shrugged. "It wasn't a _complete_ lie," she grumbled, ears flattening momentarily. "It was kind of true."

"It was a lie," he countered coldly, pinning her with a disbelieving glower. "It was a lie, Gin, and you know it."

She nodded slowly, eyes falling to stare at her hands. "Did you . . . did you want me to tell Uncle Sesshoumaru about us?"

"That's not the point."

"Then what is?'

He shook his head. "I . . . I don't know. I just didn't think . . . I didn't know you could lie."

"I'm sorry," she murmured, scrunching up her shoulders as she brought up her legs, wrapping her arms around them and dropping her chin onto her knees. "It's easier to lie to someone over the phone."

For some reason, her casual statement bothered him even more than the actual lie. Altering his path as he swung around to stride over to her, he sat beside her and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. She tried to smile as she gave an embarrassed little shrug before bracing her feet against the mattress to push herself back across the bed. Cain stretched out beside her, and she cuddled next to him, draping the sheet over the both of them before sighing and closing her eyes.

Cain grimaced as he stared at her: the little girl with the angel face . . . the one he had never thought could ever lie to anyone. '_God . . . what the hell am I doing to her?_'

Of all the things she wanted him to teach her, all the things that he could have showed her or explained, the last thing he'd ever thought she'd find out from him was just how easy it was to tell a lie . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro slouched lower in his chair and tried not to ask himself if things really could be any worse. 

"Wasn't that one of the girls you had a threesome with?"

Stifling a groan as he shot his demented sibling the blackest glower he could manage, Kichiro didn't dare so much as peek at Belle to see how she was reacting to that little gem.

"I don't think---"

"Ah, yes . . . I heard about that one," Nezumi murmured, sipping her water as she tried not to smile.

"You really were bad, weren't you?" Sierra commented as she pushed her plate away.

Toga chuckled. "Oh, the days of baka behavior . . ."

"How fascinating," Belle said pleasantly. "I'm so glad you're such a _generous_ man, Dr. Izayoi."

Trying not to flinch at the use of the formal title, Kichiro pasted on a tepid smile and shrugged. "I don't know about generous . . ."

"Oh, don't be so modest!" Belle went on. "You did call yourself the 'Elvis of oral sex', didn't you?"

Ryomaru choked on the bite he'd just stuck in his mouth. Nezumi coughed suddenly. Sierra because extremely interested in the dessert menu, while Toga just sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

If it wasn't bad enough that he'd been recognized the moment he walked into the new restaurant by the overzealous hostess who latched onto his arm despite Belle's formidable glower, they hadn't been seated more than a minute before Ryomaru and Nezumi followed by Toga and Sierra had breezed into the room. Spotting the two, Toga had managed to coerce a bigger table. Kichiro had started to explain that they were just trying to have a quiet dinner when Belle announced that they'd love to join the others.

Of course, that was nothing in comparison to the procession of five waitresses who had all stopped by to personally greet him since they entered the place. One had even touched his hair, and while he had shrugged her off quickly enough, he hadn't missed the flaring of Belle's eyes in reaction to the touching. That the girls all knew him by first name, and some even using the shortened version of his name . . . Well, Belle knew that Japanese people didn't normally use one's first name if they weren't well acquainted, and even then, most of the time, honorifics were attached. All in all, he figured Belle had every right to be upset with him, and then some . . .

He'd known that was a bad idea. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to live through the evening . . .

"Elvis, huh . . . You know, I never understood it. Everyone thought I was worse, but I don't know . . . I'd say Kich was much worse, hands down. Hell, we went out one night, and I swear there were, what? Ten girls that night? More?"

Kichiro wished fervently that Ryomaru was sitting within kicking distance. The youkai hunter sat back with a smug grin as he shot Kichiro a knowing look.

"You were bad, too, Ryo," Kichiro retaliated. "I might have been worse in that respect but I'd say it was far more idiotic to run back and tell Nez about every one of your liaisons."

Ryomaru chuckled. "Nice try, baka. Nez knew about all my badness. It stopped being an issue long, long ago."

Kichiro's retort was cut off by the giggling waitress bearing a tray with a round of drinks. "Evening, Kich. Long time, no see."

Pasting on a tolerant smile, he inclined his head before hurriedly lowering his gaze before Belle got the idea that he was encouraging the attention. "Yeah, I've been busy," he remarked, leaning away when the girl tucked the empty tray under her arm and touched his arm.

"All work and no play?" she asked, her tone dropping to a slightly more intimate timbre.

"Nope, not at all," he responded. "Just busy."

"You said you'd call," the waitress pouted. "Did you lose my number?"

"Something like that," he said, daring a glance at Belle. She intercepted the meaningful look but turned away, lifting her chin as she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. Kichiro winced inwardly.

'_Damn . . . she's going to kill me_.'

'_Get rid of the wench_,' his youkai growled.

'_What am I supposed to do? Tell her to go to hell?_'

'_Better to tell this girl to go to hell or would you rather have Belle tell you to do that, instead?_'

'. . . _Good point_.'

"Listen---" he began.

"Oh, he didn't lose your number," Belle remarked calmly. "It's just that Dr. Izayoi did some soul searching and thought it was well past time to come out of the closet."

The girl nearly dropped the tray. Kichiro felt his ears smash against his head as his sibling chortled, the girls whispered, and Toga--- the ass---barked out a loud guffaw.

"Belle . . ."

"_Doctor_ . . ."

He sighed. "Yes," he agreed tightly, grimacing as he tried to force himself to speak. "I'm . . . gay. Really, really gay."

"_Extremely_ gay," Belle added.

"Disgustingly so," Kichiro growled, pinning Belle with a warning glower.

"So you might want to pass that information on to your little waitress friends," Belle went on, ignoring Kichiro completely.

"You're . . .?" the waitress echoed faintly, obviously unwilling to believe that Kichiro was gay.

He glanced at Belle. She narrowed her eyes, and that flattened his ears as he slowly heaved a sigh and forced himself to look at the waitress again. "Yep, gay," he repeated in a low monotone. "I . . . like musicals . . . and opera . . . and big---" he swallowed hard, "strong . . . _men_."

"You're about as gay as I am," Ryomaru scoffed with a loud snort, "which means you _ain't_."

"Oh, of course not!" the waitress agreed with a loud, relieved laugh. She patted Kichiro's shoulder and hurried away.

"I don't know whether to be glad she didn't believe you or to be so disgusted I can't even see straight," Belle mused.

"Belle . . ."

"Damn," Toga added. "Makes me really, really glad I wasn't a whore-dog like you two bakas."

"Well, I don't hear Nez complaining about my acquired skills," Ryomaru bragged. Nezumi slapped his chest as her cheeks reddened despite the small smile on her face.

"Are you going to be mad at me all night?" Kichiro asked, trying to keep his tone lowered to avoid speaking to his cousin and brother.

"Fifty plus," Belle responded.

"Fifty? Is that what he told you?" Ryomaru spoke up. "Try closer to a hundred and fifty or more . . ."

He didn't have to look to know that Belle was glowering at him. Kichiro sighed. "I didn't keep track, you ass," he growled.

"You didn't have to. Nez could probably name most of them . . ."

Wondering briefly whether or not his parents would notice if he killed his sibling, Kichiro sighed and scooted closer to Belle only to have her lean further away.

"So it really is you!" another waitress greeted as she stopped beside Kichiro. "The other girls said you were here . . . How have you been, Kichiro?"

"Excuse me," Belle muttered as she stood up and stalked away.

Kichiro watched her go and stifled a groan. "I've been well," he answered.

"I think I'll go see if Belle needs help finding the ladies' room," Sierra spoke up. Toga shot to his feet to help his very-pregnant wife.

"Yeah, me, too," Nezumi agreed. Ryomaru grinned as he watched her get up, too.

"You look like you're doing well," the waitress---Kichiro couldn't remember her name though he did remember her scent---commented.

"Yeah, of course," he said, peeking over his shoulder in time to see Belle disappear in the hallway that led to the bathrooms. "I didn't know you all worked here . . ."

She shrugged. "You know how it is: we all sort of make the rounds in the restaurants, so to speak."

"You don't say."

She giggled. "It was nice seeing you again, Kich. Next time, don't be such a stranger."

He smiled tightly as the woman winked before sauntering away.

"You're a dead man," Toga remarked.

"Sucks to be you," Ryomaru agreed.

"Yeah, well, you two aren't exactly helping much, are you?"

"Considering how often you bedeviled me in the past? I wouldn't dream of interfering," Toga assured him.

"Considering how often you called me a fat ass? I don't think I would, either," Ryomaru added.

Kichiro sighed. "I hate you both."

"Hmm, what do you suppose that's all about?" Toga mused, tapping Ryomaru's arm with the back of his hand and nodding toward the bar.

Ryomaru glanced up then away before looking back once more. "Heh. Dunno."

Kichiro wasn't sure he wanted to see what his relatives were looking at, but in the end, he peeked over, too. Belle was leaning casually against the counter with a very pleasant smile on her face as she conversed with the milling waitresses. Nezumi and Sierra stood off to the side whispering to one another though neither seemed to be speaking to Belle at all.

Unsure why he couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was really, really wrong, Kichiro narrowed his gaze and watched. Belle turned to say something to one of the girls behind the counter before turning and pointing at Kichiro. Then she turned around again and leaned across the counter. When she straightened back up, she wiggled her fingers at the girls before turning on her heel and gliding back toward the table with Nezumi and Sierra in tow.

Scary enough that both Sierra as well as Nezumi looked quite shocked if not highly amused. Worse was the absolutely brilliant smile Belle bestowed on him as she slid back into her chair again.

"What did you do?" he asked, unsure if he really wanted to hear the answer or not.

"It'd be my guess that she made sure that you were finished being hit on," Ryomaru commented.

"Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem anymore," Sierra said as she carefully lifted her glass of water to her lips.

"What did you do?" Kichiro repeated.

Belle's smile widened. "Nothing bad, of course."

"Really."

"Lighten up, Kich," Nezumi said as she sat back down. "I guess you'd call it . . . what? Marking her territory?"

Sierra giggled. "That'd be one way to put it."

Kichiro's next question was cut short as the restaurant manager hurried over to their table. "Excuse me . . . I hate to intrude, but I wondered if I may have a word with you, Miss---?"

Kichiro put a hand on Belle's arm. "What about?"

The manager smiled rather nervously, rubbing his hands together as he tried to figure out a good way to state his concerns. "It's about the counter . . ."

Kichiro shot Belle a suspicious glance before slowly standing up. "The counter," he repeated. "Excuse me."

Striding over to the counter, he could hear Toga and Ryomaru's laughter ringing in his ears. Stifling another groan as he saw what the manager was talking about, Kichiro couldn't help the incredulous glance he shot over his shoulder at the still smiling Belle. She wiggled her fingers at him before blowing him a kiss. The groan slipped out as he slowly shook his head, as he stared in shock at the five very deep gouges that traversed the pristine black marble countertop.

"Sir, I must say---" the manager began.

The waitresses wouldn't even glance at Kichiro, and he slowly smiled. "Don't worry," he assured the man. "Just . . . send me the bill."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

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**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_Damn _…

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_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	59. So Long as She Needs Me

**_Lime Warning_**

_This is supposed to be a lime chapter; however THIS is the 'clean' version of the chapter, for those who don't care for the lime. If you want to read the lime, it isn't posted here. according to their TOS, will not allow the posting of Adult Rated Materials, so if you want to read the lime/lemon, see MY BIO ON MY AUTHOR PAGE. There is a link to my fanfics on Media Miner, where the lemons are posted. If you have trouble, you might have to adjust the settings to see ALL rated fics, as Media Miner is set to default at PG-13_.

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**_Chapter 59_**

**_So Long as She Needs Me

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_**

Belle shifted from one foot to the other as she wrung her hands and bit her bottom lip, apprehension gripping her as she watched the hanyou circling her.

"Kich tells me he taught you a few things already," InuYasha said in an almost distracted tone as he prowled around her. "Show me what you've got."

"I, uh . . . didn't really learn that much," she hedged, stumbling back in an effort to put a little more distance between the hanyou of legend and herself. There was a fierceness, a predatory sort of vibe that radiated from InuYasha, and that vibe was enough to make Belle rue the day she agreed to let him take over her defensive training. "Come to think of it, I don't really need to learn all this, do I?"

"Don't be stupid, pup. Self-defense is something that everyone needs to know."

"But Kichiro swore he'd protect me," she argued.

InuYasha stopped short, draping his hands on his lean hips as he slowly shook his head and made a scoffing sound that Belle had heard from Kichiro before. "Feh! Let me tell you something, princess. As much as my son will honor his word to protect you, there is always a chance that he won't be there, for whatever reason. What the hell do you think you'll do if he ain't there, and some bastard decides you're a good target?"

"I'd . . . call Kichiro," she said, struck by the sudden inspiration. "Daddy told me not to ever leave home without my cell phone, and---"

"And while you're fucking around with those buttons, your attackers will be on you like white on rice."

Belle blinked. "They . . . but I . . . No one would attack me! Why would they?"

"For the same reason my son thought it'd be nice to service you in his office during business hours?"

Belle grimaced. "You knew about that?'

InuYasha snorted but couldn't quite contain the hint of red that filtered into his cheeks. "That's what I get for not fucking knocking," he muttered. "Anyway, someone who would attack you won't give a rat's ass, who your mate _or_ your father is, so get that idea out of your head, will you?"

Belle couldn't help her little giggle---sorely misplaced but entirely impossible to suppress. "He told you he's going to be my mate?"

InuYasha rolled his eyes again. "Yes, he did . . . Now can we get back to this?"

"Sorry," she apologized, choking back her laughter before she succeeded in irritating Kichiro's father any more than she already had. Squealing as he lunged at her, Belle hopped aside just before he managed to grab her around the waist.

He landed behind her, skidding across the training mat as he stood up straight and nodded slowly. "Okay, good. At least you have decent reflexes. Do you have to scream like a fucking girl?"

She grimaced as he flattened his ears and shook his head. "Sorry about that, too."

"Feh. Whatever."

"I know how to throw people," she ventured. "Isn't that good enough?"

Turning his head as he pinned her with an incredulous scowl, InuYasha looked like he was tempted to yell at her, and Belle bit her lip again. "Throwing people? You think that throwing people is enough? Newsflash, pup: the chances that your attackers are going to rush you are slim to none. You need to learn how to defend yourself from someone who's right there in your face. Got that?"

Ignoring the tiny voice in her head that reminded her that Kichiro had said roughly the same thing, Belle pasted on a bright smile and shrugged. "What about if I promise just not to go anywhere without a big, strong hanyou to guard me?"

"What . . .? Oh, that's a bunch of shit, and you know it, princess. Kich told me about your other . . . problem."

"Problem?" she echoed, shaking her head in confusion.

InuYasha's cheeks reddened to match his nondescript sweatshirt. "Yeah, the clothes you refuse to wear."

"He told you that?"

InuYasha snorted.

"Is there anything he didn't tell you?"

"Yeah. He didn't tell me that you don't fucking shut up."

Belle blushed at that and snapped her mouth closed on her next question as InuYasha hunkered down to strike again.

"She blushes when you say she don't shut up but don't care if you saw her getting a Kich implant? That's fucked up, no doubt about it."

Belle narrowed her glare at the new arrival as Ryomaru strode into the dojo. "I shut up just fine, thank you," she began hotly.

"Oh yeah? Let's see it, grabby."

Snapping her mouth closed at the nickname that Ryomaru insisted on using for her, Belle resolved to ignore the irritating hanyou if it was the last thing she did.

"Thought you were gone hunting," InuYasha remarked, ignoring his son's more colorful commentary.

"Feh! Against a gecko-youkai? You've gotta be kidding!"

InuYasha nodded slowly. "Good, then you can help me."

"Help you?"

"Yep. Attack her, will you?"

"Against her? Feh! I use pitiful excuses of hanyous like her to floss my teeth," he scoffed.

"Oh, do you?" Belle growled. "I think I'll enjoy throwing you around."

"If you really think you can."

"It'll be my pleasure."

"Yeah, bring it, grabby wench."

Ryomaru lunged at Belle. Instead of screaming and jumping out of the way, she caught his outstretched hand and flicked her wrist, sending the hanyou flying over her head. Landing flat on his back a good twenty feet behind her, Belle dusted her hands off and crossed her arms over her chest as she allowed herself a smug little grin at her accomplishment.

Ryomaru sprang to his feet and snorted. "I could have countered that if I'd wanted to hurt you," he scoffed.

"What's the matter? The big, bad youkai hunter land on his . . . ego?"

"All right, you two," InuYasha interrupted. "That's enough." He stood back, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Kich taught you that?"

Belle nodded.

The unmistakable pride on the hanyou's face gave her pause, and Belle couldn't help but remember Kichiro's cryptic words. "_They've always been closer, in my estimation. The old man and Ryomaru . . . they were too similar not to be . . . If anything, he tried harder, I think . . . like he wanted to understand me, even if he never really has_ . . ."

'_InuYasha . . . he's proud of Kichiro, isn't he?_'

"Doesn't surprise me, none," InuYasha mused. "Kich's always been faster than Ryo."

"Oi!"

"Feh! Come on. We've got more training to do," InuYasha growled.

Ryomaru stalked over to his father's side. Belle watched in unabashed fascination as the father and son discussed her training, and as she noted just how alike yet so different the Izayoi men really were.

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Gin stared out the window at the crystal blue sky. If everything was proceeding according to schedule, the plane should be touching down in about fourteen hours, and she was already getting restless. "I'm glad I came with you," she said as she turned to peek at Cain. 

Cain slouched down in his seat. "I'm glad you did, too."

The two weeks had positively flown by. Between museums and art galleries, sight seeing and Cain's obsession with buying a little bit of every kind of food imaginable for Gin to sample, she'd barely had time to catch her breath before he whisked her away to take her somewhere else, to show her something he thought she'd like, to feed her things she hadn't tried before.

Catching his rather far-away expression, Gin frowned. "Are you all right?"

He shook himself and shot her a startled smile. It was real enough, and that lessened Gin's worry though she couldn't help but wonder just what he had on his mind. "Never better. Why do you ask?"

"You looked a little distant," she said with a little shrug, "like you're thinking about something."

"Bellaniece is back now."

"Good. I know you've missed her."

He nodded. "Of course I did. It's just . . ." he sighed, eyes darkening as he slowly shook his head. "I not so sure I can get used to sleeping without you."

He'd brought up the one thing that Gin had been trying not to think about. She'd known that things would change again when Belle and Kichiro returned. She was too used to having Cain right there. The idea of being alone was entirely too depressing. "It's not like we won't still see each other," she pointed out.

Cain mulled that over for a moment. "There's that," he agreed. "Or . . . I could explain things to Bellaniece."

"You . . . could?"

Frowning at the back of the cabin, he deliberately tried to look nonchalant as he caught Gin's hand and pulled her toward him. "If I had to choose between not telling her and sleeping alone and trying to explain it to her with you beside me? Yeah, I could."

"But do you want to? You don't have to . . . I . . . I understand. Well, sort of . . ."

He grimaced. "It isn't about wanting to, and you don't have to try to understand."

"It's okay," she insisted, forcing a tiny smile. "You could . . . you could come over to my apartment, couldn't you? After Bellaniece goes to sleep?"

Cain looked surprised at her suggestion. "Gin, don't make it okay for me to hide you."

"I'm not," she told him. "I just don't want you to feel like I've ever expected more from you than you can give. Bellaniece should come first. She's your daughter."

"Listen . . . I have to spend the day with Bellaniece when we get home, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind having you around later."

Gin smiled. "If you're sure."

Cain shrugged as she dug the prints from the _National Enquirer_ pictures out of her bag. Sesshoumaru kept the originals, but Gin had printed out the scanned copies. The one image was just plain silly, with Cain licking off the ice cream he'd smeared on her cheek. She was laughing as she tried to pull away from him. He was grinning and holding onto her shoulders to prevent her escape.

The second picture, though . . . Sitting on his lap with her face buried against his chest, Gin's face wasn't visible in the shot by the duck pond. Cain, however, was smiling, staring at her with a bemused light in his gaze. He looked completely content, and the first time Gin had seen the image, she nearly cried. She hadn't realized he looked at her that way, had she? She hadn't known that he felt that way about her, after all . . . "You know, you look really happy in these," she remarked as her smile widened.

Cain plucked the pictures out of her hand and chuckled. "So do you."

Gin leaned on his arm so she could look, too. "Well, sure . . . but I'm glad you had a good time."

"What are you going to do with those pictures?"

Gin shrugged and tucked them back into her bag. "I should frame them," she commented as she sat back. "They're really good pictures, don't you think?"

"You can frame them," he agreed. "'Course, your papa might not be too pleased when he sees them."

Gin made a face. "I forgot about that."

"You know, I don't have a problem, telling your father about us," he remarked, a near-belligerence entering his tone.

"If you told him about us, what would you say?"

Cain shrugged as he pondered her question. "What would you want me to say?"

Gin shook her head. "I don't know . . . whatever you felt was right."

He sighed and took her hand, staring at their fingers as he twined his together with hers. "Gin . . . I'm not really sure what feels right. I just know that being with you makes me happier than . . . than I ever thought I could be." Drawing a deep breath, he lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her fingers as she smiled. "So if you want me to tell your father, I will. All you have to do is say the word."

She couldn't repress the flash of sadness that flitted over her expression before she could mask it with a bright smile. Cain winced when he saw it, but Gin shook her head. "That's just it. It's not about me. It shouldn't be about me. I'm . . . with you because I want to be, and I don't want you to think that you owe me, because you don't."

Her answer didn't seem to make him happy. He sighed and let his gaze roam over the dimly lit cabin. Struggling to voice what he felt in his heart, trying to find a way to make her understand . . . "Okay, how about this?" he finally said, eyes dark, serious as he returned her stare. "So long as you need me, Gin . . . So long as you'll have me . . . I'll stay with you."

Her answer was a squeeze on his hand, a timid smile that filled her eyes with a wondrous brightness. "I like that," she answered, "and I'll stay with you, too."

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"You've got to be kidding," Belle grumbled as she stared at Kichiro in something akin to shock. "You mean that, don't you?" 

Kichiro snorted and rolled his eyes as he jerked his glasses off his face and pinned Belle with a bored look. "Yeah, yeah I do."

"You mean to tell me you care more about your precious piano than you would about our children?"

He shook his head. "Of course not! I just don't think it's bad to teach them that certain things aren't meant for them to mess with---my piano being one of those things."

She sighed. The discussion had begun simply enough. Belle had set a bottle of water on the piano just for a moment while she ran to find her ringing cell phone. Kichiro had not been pleased. At least he'd waited until she hung up before thrusting the bottle into her hand with the explicit warning not to ever, _ever_ set a drink on his piano again.

'_Honestly, you'd think I just threatened his best friend, not just set a bottle of tepid water on his stupid piano_,' Belle thought.

'_Well, some people are more sensitive about certain things, and apparently Kichiro has a deep affinity for his piano_,' her youkai reasoned.

'_That's the most ridiculous . . . Nothing should be more important than our future children!_'

"Just don't do it, all right?" he growled.

"So you're telling me that you'd rather lock your precious piano away while our children are little than to let them touch it? Are you pulling my leg?"

He shot her a rather bland sidelong look. "There are three things in this world that I do not joke about, Belle: my family, my mate, and my piano."

Belle rolled her eyes. "At least I made that list."

"It's not like I'm saying that I'd growl at them about it. That'd be why I'd move it."

Gaze darkening as she slowly shook her head; Belle stared at him for another moment before spinning around to grab her cell phone and purse off the table behind the sofa.

"Where are you going?" he asked as he stuck his nose back to the open file in his hands.

"Home. Goodnight."

That got his attention quickly enough. "What? Why?"

Belle didn't falter as she strode toward the door. "My father will be home in the morning. I should be there when he gets home."

Kichiro caught her hand. She hadn't heard him stand up or follow her. "I realize your father will be home in the morning. All the more reason why you should stay with me tonight."

Belle shook her head, tugging on her hand, to no avail. "It's not just that," she admitted.

"Then what is? Is this still about the piano?"

She sighed. "You never struck me as a materialistic sort of person, you know. So your piano was expensive . . . but it's just a thing. You . . . you acted like you were going to rip me to shreds for setting my water on it, even after I apologized. It just makes me wonder . . . If one of our children touched it, would you yell at them for it, too?"

He grimaced, dropping her hand as he stepped back, jamming his fists into his pockets as he stared at her. "Are you saying you don't have anything you wouldn't keep from little ones?"

"It's just stuff. I could replace it."

Kichiro mulled her words over for several seconds before answering. "You're right. It's just . . . stuff."

Belle stepped toward him but stopped, intercepting the deeper hint of sadness that tinged Kichiro's golden eyes. "I wouldn't _let_ them mess with it, you know. I just . . . I'd rather know that you wouldn't be too angry about it, if they did."

"Okay." He nodded and turned slightly from side to side. "You . . . going to stay?"

Belle smiled, just a little. "I could be talked into it . . ."

"Could you?"

She didn't retreat when he started toward her, his eyes igniting in brilliant light that she recognized far too well. "Are you going to give me a reason to stay?"

"I could do that," he agreed, catching her by the wrist and tugging her into his arms. "Why don't you tell me what you really want?"

"You," she murmured as his lips brushed over hers. Moaning softly as his arms slipped around her; as he squeezed her bottom, she melted against him. "I want you."

Her words slammed through him---she could feel his body trembling as he maneuvered her backward, pinning her against the wall. Tongue flicking against hers in a heated dance that drove away conscious thought, any sense of reason, Belle shoved her hands between them, kneaded his chest muscles through the invasive fabric of his shirt. His reply was a low groan, the pressing of his hips to hers. He throbbed against her, goaded her silently, begged for her touch without saying a word.

Belle managed the buttons of his shirt with unsteady hands, dragging her mouth away from his as she pressed hungry kisses down his chin, down his throat, down the shallow vale in the center of his chest. His breathing echoed in the quiet foyer as his shirt fell in a whisper on the floor. Hands tugging at his pants, she uttered an impatient growl as she rent the fabric under her claws.

"Damn," Kichiro murmured. "Belle-chan . . ."

"I said I want you," she countered, her voice ragged, uneven. "It's not my fault your pants hate me."

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She squeaked out a half-sigh, a half-breath. Senses engulfed in the wonder of her, Kichiro scarcely discerned the scrape of the door opening, heard the sharp inhalation followed by the muttered curse. Too enthralled in the wonder of Belle's body, he didn't bother to turn around to tell his cousin to get the hell out. The door slammed again though Kichiro had to wonder if Belle had any idea about that intrusion . . .

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Breathing labored, body veiled in a sheen of perspiration, she was vaguely aware as he pushed her legs off his shoulders and caught her, laying her on the floor as he cradled her in his arms. He savored the sounds of their hearts beating in the quiet. Belle suddenly giggled, her arms tightening around him as she nuzzled closer, seemingly unaware that they were lying on the floor just inside the door. "What's so funny?" he finally asked.

"Nothing," she giggled louder. "Do you suppose your cousin enjoyed the show?"

Kichiro rasped out a deep chuckle and kissed Belle's forehead. "You knew he was here?"

"Well, he did slam the door."

"That's true. Let's hope he didn't have his pups with him."

"I didn't see them."

Kichiro laughed. "You looked?"

Belle laughed, too. "I waved."

It was on the tip of his tongue to argue that she didn't. He sighed. Belle didn't care that he'd seen her sunbathing without a shirt. She didn't wear panties, and she didn't own a bra, either. Nope, he didn't doubt that she waved at his cousin; not at all.

"I suppose we should get off the floor," he mused. She giggled again as he stood up, lifting her off the floor and striding through the house toward the bedroom.

Her laughter died, and she let her head fall against his shoulder. "I should go home soon . . ."

"You know, Belle . . . If you'd let me tell your father, you wouldn't have to worry about going home at night."

"We've talked about this," Belle argued calmly, drawing her legs up under her but making no move to cover herself.

Kichiro heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I know," he told her, "but I swear to kami, as soon as you turn eighteen . . ."

"And I need to shower, too," she went on, ignoring Kichiro's statements.

Growling at the implications of her words, he narrowed his gaze on her and crossed his arms over his chest. "To get my scent off you, you mean."

She smiled. "Don't be like that, Kichiro. If things were different . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." He rolled his eyes. "When do you turn eighteen?"

Belle looked surprised by his question, and she shifted her gaze away for a moment. "Why do you ask?"

He snorted. "Feh! Why do you think?"

She shrugged. "So you can tell Daddy about us, you mean?"

He nodded.

"Yeah . . . about that . . . I don't really want to tell him unless it is absolutely necessary."

"_What?_"

She winced at the deadly quiet of his tone. "I want to tell him, I just . . . he won't believe you, you know? About not wanting pups . . ."

Reigning in the desire to smash something, Kichiro growled low in his throat as he prowled around the foot of the bed. "Belle . . ."

"Anyway, if you told him about us on my birthday . . ." She sighed. "Please, Kichiro . . . I want to be with you; you know I do . . ."

"Well, when the hell is your birthday?"

Belle sighed again. "In about . . . thirty minutes."

Kichiro stopped mid-stride and slowly turned to stare at her before rasping out an incredulous laugh. "That's funny. I could have sworn you just said---"

"Twenty-nine minutes, now."

"Belle!"

She blinked at his shocked expression. "Yes?"

"What the fuck do you mean? Your birthday is _tomorrow?_"

She nodded. "Yes."

"And you just now told me?"

"Yes."

"Did you not think it was a big deal or something?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, it isn't a big deal."

He shook his head as he flopped onto the bed beside her. "You cannot be serious. What do you normally do on your birthday?"

Belle pondered his question as she stretched out beside him. "Well . . . I go shopping with Daddy."

"Shopping? What about presents?"

"I get presents. Why do you think I go shopping?"

"Does your father wrap them?"

She shot him a rather condescending look. "Why would he do that when I know what he bought me?"

"Did he used to wrap your presents?"

"No . . ."

Kichiro snorted. "What about cake? Ice cream? Candles?"

"Sometimes . . . sometimes . . . and no."

"No, never?"

Belle giggled. "You make it sound like a fate worse than death. I happen to have fond memories of my birthday, I'll have you know." She leaned up on her elbow to kiss him before slipping off the bed and sauntering toward the bathroom, humming 'Happy Birthday to You' under her breath.

Kichiro scowled at the doorway.

It didn't make sense. As much as he disliked Zelig Cain, he'd have to be the first to admit that the man really had been a remarkable father. It seemed odd, then. From what Belle had admitted, it didn't seem like she'd ever had much in the way of a real birthday party . . .

He sighed, dropping back on the bed as he stared at the ceiling, as he heard the gurgle of the bathroom pipes. Brushing aside the acute irritation that she really was washing off his scent, Kichiro snorted. He'd learned early on that the sooner one bathed after intimate contact, the less likely they were to pick up the scent of the other, which was why Belle never seemed to waste time in taking a shower. Since Belle didn't want to tell her father just yet, she was adamant about showering, and that just figured. If she started to smell like him, Cain might have a clue, and Kichiro wouldn't have to worry about her having to tell him, either.

Still the main concern on his mind was the idea that Belle hadn't told him about her birthday for whatever reason. It didn't sit well with him. He was going to be her mate, right? Mates ought to know stuff like that, damn it.

'_No birthday? We'll see about that_ . . .'

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_Belle's birthday_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	60. Belle’s Birthday

**_Chapter 60_**

**_Belle's Birthday

* * *

_**

"I really missed you, Daddy."

Cain adjusted the bags in his hands and grinned just a little at his daughter. "I missed you, too."

"Seems like such a long time since I've seen you," she went on. "Seems like things have changed."

"Oh? Like what?"

Giggling as she pulled a bag out of her father's hand before he dropped it, Belle clasped the handle in both hands as they wandered through the store. "I can't really put my finger on it," she mused slowly. "You seem . . . happier."

Can snorted, cheeks pinking as he gazed off into the distance. "Pfft. Dunno what you're talking about, Bellaniece."

"It's not a bad thing, Daddy. I'm glad."

"How's Kelly doing?" he asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

Belle laughed. "Kelly's doing well. Dr. Izayoi says he'll be able to complete her grafts with another surgery. He's . . . He's optimistic."

"Yeah . . . I just don't like that guy . . ."

"Why is that?"

"I'm not sure. Something about him . . . he just . . ." Cain shrugged. "He rubs me wrong, I guess."

"He's actually a pretty nice man," Belle asserted, careful to keep her tone neutral. "In fact, I really like him."

Cain snorted. "Ugh, just keep him away from me."

"Why?"

He followed Belle into another store. "I can't put my finger on it . . . anyway, not like that matters, right?"

"You know, Daddy, Dr. Izayoi is very, very intelligent. Did you know he's doing specialized research?"

"Is he?" Cain asked, standing back as Belle shuffled through a rack of summer dresses.

"Yes, he's researching the use of condoms to prevent accidental mating."

Cain coughed indelicately. "What?"

"He's researching the use of---"

"I heard what you said, Bellaniece. I knew he was a little pervert---"

Belle rolled her eyes and placed a hand in the center of Cain's chest to interrupt his tirade. "It makes sense, you know? He's not researching it just to give license to run out and have promiscuous sex. He wants to gain a better understanding of youkai, and how things work."

Cain's expression was dubious at best. "I think you should stay away from Dr. Deviant," he said slowly.

Belle giggled. "I didn't say _I_ was researching it," she assured him, brushing aside the feelings of guilt that nagged her since she was carrying three condoms in her purse---courtesy of a bathroom vending machine. "I just thought it was interesting; that's all . . ."

"Interesting? Try demented."

She didn't really think that he'd be overly impressed with Kichiro's research. Wincing inwardly as the memory of the irritation Kichiro had tried to hide after she'd told him she had to take a shower to wash off his scent, coupled with the lingering hint of sadness in his eyes when he'd walked her home, Belle sighed and peeked at her father. Staring around with an almost bored expression on his face, he looked like he was a million miles away. She smiled. "Daddy? Can I ask you a question?"

"Okay," he agreed. "What?"

Twisting her hands together in a decidedly nervous fashion, she shrugged in what was meant to be an offhanded gesture. "What would you say if I told you that I thought I'd found my mate?"

The shift in Cain's aura was immediate and intense. Belle stole another glance at his face and gulped. He didn't look angry or upset, but the instantaneous panic that he hid quickly enough made her wish she could take back her question. Shifting his weight to one foot while he cleared his throat, Cain leveled a thoughtful stare on his daughter and slowly shook his head. "Did you?"

Forcing a laugh that was a little too loud, a little too happy, Belle waved her hand in blatant dismissal. "What? Oh, no! I just meant that I'm older now, and . . . Would it be so bad?"

"Bad? No . . . A little unexpected, maybe . . . or a _lot_ unexpected . . ."

"Well, I am eighteen now . . ."

"Yeah, I know." Cain smiled sadly. "Maybe I forgot."

"You know, I could really go for something to eat," Belle said, grabbing Cain's arm and dragging him toward the exit, "and it's my birthday, so you have to let me choose the restaurant."

Cain chuckled. "As you wish, my lady."

Belle laughed. '_Maybe I can stay Daddy's little girl, just for a tiny bit longer _. . .'

'_But it's not really fair to Kichiro, is it?_'

'_No . . . it's not_.'

'_He just wants to be with you, Belle. He wants to take care of you, and you want that, too_.'

'_I know I do_,' she thought with a shake of her head. '_Of course I do! I just_ . . .' The fleeting image of Cain's very real alarm shot through her mind, and she winced again. Was he thinking of the things that he thought were inevitable? Was he worried that finding a mate meant that he would be free of her? Free to keep his promise? '_I wish it were easier_.'

For once her youkai wasn't mean or snide. '_So do I. You know Kichiro would take care of that, too, if it came down to it. He'd lie to your father because you asked him to._'

'_I know. I just don't want it to come to that_.'

'_You can't put Kichiro off forever_.'

'_I know that, too_.'

Her youkai sighed. '_Enough of this, Belle! It's our birthday, right? Let's just enjoy it with your father_.'

Belle smiled as Cain hooked the door to the small café and held it open for her. He excused himself after they'd been showed to a table, and Belle jumped when the trill of her cell phone startled her.

"Hello?"

"Ah, just the girl I wanted to talk to."

She grinned at the softness in Kichiro's tone. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Listen . . . I made plans for this evening."

Belle's bubble of contentment that had formed when she'd first heard Kichiro's voice burst like an overinflated balloon. "I see," she replied, reminding herself that she did tell him that she would be spending the day with her father. "Then I suppose I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Wha---? No . . . I made plans for you later."

A ridiculous grin broke over her features as she held the phone a little closer, dropping her voice to a near whisper. "Did you, now? And these plans . . . Do they involve you and me and certain . . . illicit acts?"

"Illicit? Hmm . . . I like that . . . but actually, no. It involves you and me and . . . a few others . . . I'll pick you up at five?"

Belle glanced at her watch and giggled. It was only one. How she'd manage to wait till five was completely beyond her. "I bought something for you."

"You did? It isn't my birthday."

Heart hammering wildly as she considered the things she'd hidden in her purse, Belle giggled. "I couldn't resist."

"Okay, then thank you. I've got to go. My next appointment's here. I'll see you at five, all right?"

Belle turned off the phone and set it on the table. '_Five_ . . .' She sighed. Five seemed like such a long way off.

Cain slipped into the chair across from her, sparing her an almost confused glance as he sat back in his chair. "Is something wrong, Bellaniece?"

"Wrong? No . . . Why?"

Cain shrugged as the confusion shifted into something more akin to suspicion. "No reason," he muttered. "You looked . . . never mind."

"You know, I've had a really good time today, just the two of us," Belle commented.

He smiled, grabbing his menu and turning his attention to the restaurant's offerings. "Me, too."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain deliberately closed the studio door to block out the muffled sounds of merriment that siphoned into his apartment despite the thick walls and heavy iron door. If he weren't dog-youkai, it wouldn't have been an issue, and knowing that the origin of those sounds was the apartment beside his---Gin's apartment . . . He sighed and dug out his sketchpad and pencils, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that he'd promised to make an appearance. 

"_It's just dinner and cake, really," Gin said. He could hear the wet slap of a spatula in cake batter over the clear phone connection. "I'd really like for you to come over_."

"_All right," he said, scratching his chin idly as he waited for Belle to reemerge from the bathroom in the quiet restaurant. "I suppose I could do that, since you asked_."

_Gin giggled. "Oh, no, I've got to run. Kichiro's here with some food . . . Five, Cain, don't forget!_"

That should have been his first clue.

"_He's researching the use of condoms to prevent accidental mating_ . . ."

Cain made a face as he dropped the open sketchpad on the table and used his claws to sharpen the pencil. Kichiro Izayoi. Why did he always get Cain's hackles rising?

'_Who cares what he researches as long as he doesn't think he's researching it on my daughter _. . .'

'_Why would he do that, Cain? You know, they did say he's gay, didn't they?_'

Cain snorted, snapping the pencil lead and sighing when he turned it to sharpen it once more. '_Gin says he isn't._'

'_With as sheltered as they've kept her, do you honestly think that they'd tell her that her beloved brother is iffy?_'

'_I don't know . . . He doesn't seem gay to me . . . That doesn't matter, anyway. I don't care what he is or isn't so long as he stays away from Bellaniece_.'

'_And this is assuming Bellaniece would have him_.'

Cain conceded that with a slightly relieved nod. '_That's true_ . . .'

'_So what's the real reason you didn't want to go to Gin's apartment tonight?_'

'_I told Bellaniece I have a headache_.'

'_Which was a lie_.'

'_Not completely. I'm working on one_.'

'_Admit it. The main reason you didn't want to go over there is because you want to have Gin all to yourself, and you're jealous because they're there, too_.'

'_Don't be absurd_.'

'_You know it's true. Her family's there, and they're probably all over her. If it weren't bad enough that you know she washed your scent off her, then there's a good chance she smells more like her family than ever, and you really hate that, don't you?_"

"Cain?"

He hadn't heard her enter the room. So wrapped up in his dark thoughts, he hadn't sensed her presence until she spoke. Glancing over his shoulder and absently noting her slight show of nerves, Gin shifted from one foot to the other. "Bellaniece said you have a headache. Is there anything I can do?"

Why was it that Gin's very presence had the ability to calm him? "No, I'll be fine."

She nodded. "It'd mean a lot to Bellaniece if you came over, just for a minute," she prodded.

"Gin . . ."

"Please?"

He sighed.

"You don't have to stay, if you don't want to."

"All right," he gave in, tossing down the pencil and scooting the stool back as he stood up. "Just for a few minutes."

Gin smiled and grabbed his hand, dragging him through his apartment toward the door. She let go as they neared her door. He caught her arm. "Gin . . . this isn't. . . a birthday party or something, is it?"

She blinked in surprise and nodded slowly. "Well, yes . . . it's not a problem, is it?"

Trying not to grimace as he sighed and shook his head, he tamped down the urge to head right back toward his apartment. "I don't---"

"Daddy!" Belle exclaimed happily as she opened the door and threw her arms around her father. "I'm so glad you're feeling better!"

All his protests died before he could express them out loud. Seeing Bellaniece so happy . . . He stifled a sigh and let her pull him inside.

Caught off guard by the number of people in attendance, Cain had known that there were quite a few squeezed into Gin's tiny apartment. He hadn't realized there were _that_ many. Her entire family was there, including Sesshoumaru and Kagura, Toga and Sierra with children in tow . . . Shippou and Rin, and even Sesshoumaru's youngest daughter, Aiko with her mate. A few others milled around---kitsune hanyous that were obviously Shippou and Rin's offspring, and even some who Cain didn't recognize in the least.

Only serving to add to his disorientation was the inexplicable feeling that he was being scrutinized. No one seemed to notice that he'd arrived, and he hesitated, lingering near the door. Gin hurried over and filled a plate with an assortment of cold appetizers, slipping it into his hand with a napkin and a bright smile before one of Toga's daughters grabbed her hand and tugged her over to watch the video game they'd hooked up to Gin's television.

"So is he going to show his face?"

Cain blinked and turned to eye the hanyou beside him. InuYasha wasn't looking at him, was scowling at his daughter, who was holding one of the controllers and losing to Toga's oldest daughter. Obviously speaking to the oldest of his twin sons, the surly patriarch of the Izayoi family didn't seem to notice or care that Cain had arrived.

"Maybe he had something better to do," Ryomaru scoffed, his tone skeptical at best.

InuYasha snorted. "His own daughter's birthday party, and he don't even fucking show? Feh!"

"Well, you know, not all fathers are as anal as you, old man."

"Anal, my ass."

Cain rolled his eyes. '_Just another reason to despise Gin's family . . . at least the male members of it_ . . .'

"She's doing well enough in her training. Can't believe she wasn't taught how to defend herself," InuYasha grumbled.

Cain's head snapped to the side, and he didn't try to hide his glower. "I assume that jibe was intended for me?"

"Damn straight," InuYasha shot back.

"It's really none of your business," Cain growled. "However, if you must know, I thought that it would be wiser, given that she is hanyou and, unlike your offspring, has nothing to contain her youkai blood."

"Self-defense ain't something that should affect that."

Cain narrowed his gaze and nodded slowly. "Then thank you for taking it upon yourself to train her."

InuYasha snorted. "Think nothing of it. By the way, stay away from my pup. She's starting to stink."

"Pardon me?"

"InuYasha," Kagome cut in, hurrying over with an alarmed expression as she grasped her mate's arm. "He is her teacher."

"And her friend," Cain couldn't help adding.

Kagome shot him a curious glance. InuYasha broke into a low growl as Ryomaru whipped around to eye Cain, too. "Of course they're friends," Kagome went on, raising her voice slightly to be heard over InuYasha's rumbles. "Gin's always adored Zelig-san's art. You know that."

InuYasha snorted. "That'd better be all the fuck that's going on."

"Gin's a grown woman," Cain ground out. "Why don't you learn to accept that?"

"Yeah, and maybe you should pay more attention to what your pup's doing instead of worrying about mine."

Cain scowled. "What does that mean?"

Kagome tugged on InuYasha's arm. "InuYasha . . . it's fine. Whatever's meant to be, will be."

InuYasha snorted but let Kagome drag him away. Ryomaru shook his head and stalked over to his sister, leaving Cain alone to wonder just what was going on . . .

"_What would you say if I told you that I thought I'd found my mate?_"

He shook his head. If Bellaniece had found her mate, she would have told him. He would know. Bellaniece told him everything, didn't she?

'_She does. Of course she does _. . .'

Cain sighed and shook his head. '_I knew this was a bad idea_ . . .'

'_Think of Bellaniece_.'

'_Yeah, Bellaniece_.'

"Belle is such a beautiful girl!"

"Such a nice girl, too . . ."

"Belle said that she's never really had a birthday party before? Poor thing . . ."

"Well, you can't really blame her. I mean, her mother hasn't been around, has she? Have you heard what happened to her?"

"Nope, nothing . . . but you have to respect a man who can raise such a great daughter, don't you think?"

"Of course, of course! Still it makes you wonder . . ."

Cain stifled a growl at the short form of Bellaniece's name and tried not to glower at the two kitsune hanyou woman who probably didn't realize they were being overheard.

"What? No present?" Shippou asked quizzically, sidling up beside Cain with a suspicious frown. Sesshoumaru stepped around Shippou and cast his son-in-law a rather bored stare.

Cain slipped the plate onto the small stand table beside the door and shrugged, jamming his hands into his pockets as he shrugged in what he hoped was an offhanded way. He'd known the kitsune youkai since he was a child. At that time, he hadn't lived with Sesshoumaru, but Shippou was around often enough to be a nuisance, even back then. It seemed to Cain that the kitsune loved to torment everyone around him, and while he liked Shippou well enough, Cain couldn't help but feel a little reluctant to speak. "I didn't realize there was going to be a party," he stated. "I bought her presents earlier. It wasn't a big deal."

Shippou nodded. "Yeah, it was pretty sudden. She looks like she's having fun."

Following the direction of Shippou's gaze, Cain nodded slowly. Bellaniece stood with the women, laughing and talking in hushed tones. Kichiro wandered over to them and mumbled something to his daughter. She glanced at him, her expression guarded, before she nodded and followed Kichiro toward the table. Stacked with festively wrapped boxes, she looked cautious but happy. Kichiro picked up one box and thrust it into her hands. Belle giggled as she tore off the paper and ripped open the box inside.

"Nothing like seeing them tear into their presents," Sesshoumaru mused as he stood back beside Cain, his attention on Bellaniece.

"What? Oh . . . I don't normally . . . I let her pick out what she wants. I never wrap her presents."

"Well, she is pretty old for that, I suppose."

Cain shook his head. "No, I mean . . . I've never wrapped her birthday presents."

"You've _never_ wrapped her presents?" Shippou blurted rather loudly, his expression befuddled as he gaped at the North American tai-youkai.

Stiffening as those around him fell quiet, Cain shrugged and stared at his daughter, ignoring the odd looks he was gathering from those nearby. "It's not that strange, I assure you."

Bellaniece didn't seem to notice the lull, and with a giggle, she pulled the silly cut-glass tiara out of the box in her hands. Her eyes met his, and Cain forced a dim smile. Bellaniece's hesitant grin blossomed, and for just a moment, she looked even more like her mother than she ever had before.

'_Don't do that, Cain . . . it won't help you now_.'

Gritting his teeth as he tried to listen to his youkai's advice, he couldn't quite staunch the flow of incoherent memories; disjointed visions of a life that ended much too soon, but the memories weren't in a conscious order. No rhyme or reason, no order or logic, they came at him, tore at him, and Cain dug his claws into his palm to keep himself from screaming.

He had to get out of there. He had to put some distance between the happy façade and the awful truth that nagged him. Skirting around the gathering to finally stop behind his daughter, Cain squeezed her shoulder gently, kissed her cheek as she smiled at him. "Happy birthday, Bellaniece."

"Thank you, Daddy! I'm so glad you came."

He tried to return her smile. She hugged him quickly, and he held her close, stroking her hair, so soft, so brilliant, so much like _hers_. Letting her go, blending back into the other guests as Belle clapped her hands and reached for another box, Cain retraced his steps, ignoring Sesshoumaru's knowing gaze as he slipped out the door and into the sanctity of the deserted hallway.

"Enjoy your party, my lady." He swallowed hard, striding toward his empty apartment and the blessed silence he needed. '_Daddy . . . Daddy loves you_.'

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_Happy birthday, Bellaniece _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	61. Maelstrom

**_Chapter 61_**

**_Maelstrom

* * *

_**

"Thank you."

Kichiro stopped mid-stride and turned to look at Belle. Leaning back, staring up at the few stars that managed to permeate the ever-present haze that blanketed the city, she slowly lowered her chin to gaze at him as her enigmatic little smile widened. "What are you thanking me for?" he mumbled.

Belle shrugged and caught his hand in hers as the two strolled further down the street. "For making sure my birthday was one I'd always remember."

He grinned, thankful for the darkness that hid his pinking cheeks. "As long as you enjoyed it."

"I did!" she exclaimed softly. "I can't believe your father got hakama for me."

Kichiro grinned. "Well, sure. Standard training wear. Must mean he likes you."

She laughed, but her happiness seemed to fizzle out. Sighing softly, Belle shook her head and shot him a rueful smile. "I was kind of afraid . . ."

Frowning when she trailed off, Kichiro glanced down at her and shrugged. "Afraid of what?"

Belle waved her free hand, as if she were trying to brush away some irritating thought. "To tell the truth, I was sort of afraid that Daddy wouldn't like it . . . the party, I mean."

"Why wouldn't he like it?"

"Well, he's never really said, but . . . sometimes I wonder . . . I think my mother died on my birthday. I think maybe that's why he never wanted to celebrate. Does that make sense?"

Kichiro started to scoff at that, but stopped when the thinnest strand of doubt flashed through his head; the question of how he would feel if something happened to Belle. If he survived---and he didn't believe for a moment that he actually _could_ survive without her---would he want to do anything on that day: the anniversary of something so terrible? '_No_,' he realized with an inward wince. '_No, I don't think I really would_ . . .'

"I mean, so he never wrapped my presents, right? That doesn't really make him a bad father. He loves me, you know?" She laughed a little sadly. "Of course you know."

"That's why you were so upset, isn't it? You thought your father would be ticked off?"

"A little . . ." She grimaced and shook her head. "Well, a _lot_."

He sensed her reticence, as though she were afraid to voice her very real concerns. "He didn't seem upset to me."

"He didn't, did he?" Belle's smiled brightened as Kichiro grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles. "You know, I realize that I told Daddy you were going to take me dancing, but . . . would you mind if we went to your house, instead?"

"I thought you _wanted_ to go dancing."

Belle shrugged. "I do . . . but we could do that another night, right? I think it'd be nice to be alone now . . ."

"When'd you tell your father that you'd be home?" he asked, unable to completely cover the irritation in his tone. He really hated the idea of having to take her back to that tiny apartment. Belle didn't belong there. She belonged with him . . .

"Daddy said he wouldn't wait up, if that's what you're asking," she said with a giggle. "I told him that I was eighteen now---an adult, right? At least, in the States, it's legal age . . ." Her laughter died away as she stared at him. He must have looked sadder than he thought. She winced. "You know, Kichiro, I tried to tell him today . . . about us."

"You . . . did?"

She sighed as they wandered down the street. "Yeah. I asked him what he'd say if I told him I'd found my mate."

"And?" he prodded, careful to keep his voice neutral.

"It wasn't so much what he said; it was more that he just looked so . . . I don't know---shocked? Panicked? Overwhelmed?" She drew a deep breath as Kichiro squeezed her hand. "I think I reminded him of things that I shouldn't have: like the vow he made to my mother."

"It's all right," he assured her. "You care about your father, and as much as I wish I didn't understand that . . . I do."

She stopped abruptly, turning to face him as an enigmatic little smile twitched the corners of her lips. Eyes shining in the dusky light of the street lamps, she reached up, cradled his cheek in her hand. "You're really something, Kichiro Izayoi. Thank you."

"For what?" he asked with a decisive snort, ducking his chin to hide his blush in deep shadows.

"For my birthday party. For being you. For everything."

"You're my princess, right?"

Belle nodded as Kichiro turned his face to kiss her hand.

"Then it's my responsibility to ensure the princess's happiness."

"I'm happy," she assured him before casting him a sidelong glance. "Then again . . . what else did you have in mind?"

He chuckled and scooped her into his arms before leaping onto the nearest building and sprinting with her through the night.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin closed the door and stared around her blessedly empty apartment as she rolled her head from side to side and smiled. Belle had really enjoyed herself. Everyone had, hadn't they? 

'_You know, doll, there's one person who didn't seem like he was enjoying himself at all_.'

Sighing as she opened the cupboard for a trash bag, Gin stood up and let the door close. '_He said he had a headache_ . . .'

'_Be serious, Gin. Cain's youkai, and youkai normally don't get 'headaches'. Maybe . . . maybe we could check on him . . .?_'

Gin grimaced. She'd wanted to go after him when he'd first slipped out of her apartment, but with her family's close scrutiny, she hadn't dared. Ignoring the feeling that the entire situation just felt completely wrong, she retrieved the small nondescript cake from the oven---she'd hidden it there---and let the door snap closed. She'd made a smaller version of Belle's cake for Cain. Maybe it would cheer him up, and he was certainly more important than cleaning up her apartment.

The hallway was cooler, the change in temperature quite welcome after the warmth that had come from having so many guests. She wasn't sure how Kichiro had managed to get so many people to come over for the last minute party. Belle had been so excited, though; that all the hurrying Gin had endured had definitely been worth it in the end. Traversing the distance between her door and Cain's, Gin balanced the cake on her left hand as she raised her fist.

The door opened before she could knock, and Cain stared at her for a moment, his expression blank, like he didn't really see her. Completely dressed with his shoes on and his keys in hand, he stepped back to let her inside as she bit her lip and hurried over to set the cake down.

"You were leaving?" she asked, deliberately trying to sound happy despite the reek of cigarette smoke---despite the smell of scotch that lingered on Cain's breath. She'd been told that Cain's favorite alcoholic beverage was scotch. Somehow it seemed strange.

He rubbed his temple and sighed, his eyes glassy and reddened, likely from the stagnant stench of the tobacco smoke. "Yeah, I . . . I ran out of cigarettes."

Opting to refrain from comment since he didn't look like he was in the mood to argue the bad points of smoking, Gin brushed her hands off and shrugged, forcing a smile that he didn't return. "Oh . . . I could go with you, if you want."

Cain jerked his head toward the door and held it open as Gin scooted past him. He pulled it closed and locked it behind him. Gin waited until he was finished before stepping toward the stair well. "Are you all right? Is your headache gone?"

"It's fine," he mumbled.

"You're sure?" she pressed.

"Never better."

Her questions were only serving to further his irritation. She bit her lip for a moment and forced a smile. "You missed a really great party."

"I guess I just wasn't in the mood for that."

"I know it meant a lot to Belle, though. I'm glad you came, even if you didn't stay long."

"You think I wouldn't? It was my daughter's birthday."

The barely masked hostility in his voice made her flatten her ears. "Of course you would. You've really tried to be a good father, and it shows, I think."

"That wasn't the impression I got," Cain grumbled.

"What's that?"

"Nothing." Pushing open the front door, he stepped outside and waited for Gin. She slipped her hand into his as they crossed the street to the small convenience store.

He bought a couple packs of cigarettes, stuffing one in his pocket while he smacked the other against the heel of his hand. Gin made a face when he tore open the pack and lit one after stepping back outside. Shaking his leg as he let his head fall back, he inhaled a long drag from the cigarette and stared up into the sky. "It's going to storm," he remarked casually.

"Do you think so?"

"No stars," he explained.

Gin followed the direction of his gaze and nodded. "You're right."

Tendrils of smoke escaped through his nose. Either he didn't notice or just didn't care. Gin almost sneezed, just watching him. "Come on," he mumbled, taking Gin's hand and pulling her back toward the street. Cain didn't speak again as they returned to the apartment building.

Gin sneezed as the cigarette smoke pulled in closer. The confines of the stairwell kept the stagnant fumes much too close. Cain glanced at her but didn't snuff out his cigarette.

"Belle's not here?" she asked as she stepped into Cain's apartment again. He shoved the door closed and strode past her to smash the offending cigarette in a glass ashtray that was heaped with used butts. Making a face as she grabbed the ashtray to dump, Gin hurried off to the kitchen as Cain slouched against the window frame, his gaze solemn, unreadable.

"No, she went dancing, and I've asked you---"

"Here," Gin said as she set the emptied ashtray on the table beside him. "Who'd she go dancing with?"

He sighed. "Your brother."

"Oh . . . well, I'm sure he'll watch out for Belle. Kich's good that way."

"Bella_niece_. Her name is _Bellaniece_. She's never been 'Belle'."

Gin blinked and grimaced. "Oh, sorry . . . I forgot . . . Everyone was calling her 'Belle', and---"

"Yeah, I know. They all called her 'Belle', and they all talked about what a fucking bad father I am. I heard it, Gin. I was there, remember?"

"But you're not a bad father. _I_ don't think you are . . ."

He snorted. "It doesn't matter what you think, Gin. Damn it, you could have warned me about what you'd planned, don't you think?"

"Cain?"

"Do you know how stupid I looked? I didn't even have a present _for my own daughter!_"

Gin winced as Cain's voice escalated. He hadn't moved and yet the shift in his youkai was as tangible as he was. Angry, hostile, hurtful . . . Gin shook her head and cleared her throat. "But you bought her presents today, right? I don't think anyone---"

"The hell they didn't think it! Damn it,_ I _thought it! And what? I'm negligent because I didn't let my daughter have birthday parties?"

"No."

"None of your family gets it, do they? Or do you just not care? Bellaniece never had a mother to take care of her. She never had a mother to teach her things and to fix her hair, and birthday parties? Pfft! She never had those things, and I did the best I could."

Gin started to go to him, wanted to hug him as his pain cut through her. '_He . . . he isn't angry at me, exactly, is he? He's . . . he's just angry_ . . .'

"Don't!" Cain growled, stopping Gin with a fierce glare. "Just don't!"

"I just want to help you . . ."

A rasping chuckle, more of a dry sound than anything even vaguely amused, escaped him. "What would you do if you could? Would you wave your magic little cake fairy wand and make it all better? Would you bring _her_ back? Would you do that for me, Gin?" He stopped abruptly, shaking out another cigarette and lighting it before he spoke again, his voice barely more than a harsh whisper. "Why do you think, in eighteen years, that I've never once celebrated Bellaniece's birthday?"

Gin shook her head, twisting her fingers together as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I . . . I don't know . . . I---"

"You know, of all people, you should have realized why. Of everyone on this earth, you should have known!"

"Known?"

"Don't be stupid, Gin! Would you really want to celebrate the day your mate _died?_"

Gin winced at Cain's words as a soft little wheeze was forced out of her. "I didn't know . . ."

"No, you didn't, and you didn't fucking bother to ask, did you? Everyone's precious baby girl, right? How could you possibly understand? How would you know what it feels like, to stand over your mate's body with _her_ blood dripping off _your_ goddamn claws? _How?_"

She shook her head miserably, unable to refute his anger, unable to buffer herself against his tirade.

Shoving himself away from the window to stalk around the room---around her---like a predatory creature, Cain stared at her incredulously, eyes flashing as he glowered, as he seemed to be trying to make her understand something that just didn't make any sense at all. "The first time I held Bellaniece," he muttered, voice thick, choked, "was with hands that were soaked in her mother's blood---in my _mate's_ blood. Bellaniece was tiny and perfect and beautiful, and you know . . . her father was a fucking monster. Now tell me again that you want to help me."

"But you can't have . . . you wouldn't have . . . that isn't . . . you're not a killer . . ."

"You wanted to know, right? You wanted to know what happened to Isabelle? Well, there you go, Gin. Does that not suit you? Truth isn't as pretty as the fantasy you've created, is it? You wanted to go on believing that there was some great tragedy; some sort of injustice? There wasn't one. There were only monsters and illusions and things that you'll never, ever understand."

He stepped toward her, the anger in his youkai snapping, crackling, jagged edges that cut at her. Gin stumbled back a step, needing to distance herself from the overwhelming sense that the demons that haunted him were somehow very, very real, and if she weren't careful, they'd come after her, too. He stopped suddenly, wincing as she bumped against the table, as a small whimper escaped her.

Turning his back on her again, he crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head as his shoulders slumped in a completely defeated manner.

'_He's not a killer . . . He can't be_ . . .'

"Cain? Cain, you didn't . . . kill . . . Isabelle . . . I know you didn't . . ."

"Yeah," he rasped out. "Yeah, I did."

"But you---"

He wheeled around to glower at her, his rage suddenly spiraling out of his control, thicker and heavier than the weight of any emotion Gin had ever known. "Don't make excuses for me! Don't stand there and look at me with pity in your heart and horror in your eyes! I'd rather you hate me than pity me, damn it! Take your justifications and your good intentions and get out, Gin! Just get out! I don't even want to fucking _look_ at you!"

Choking on a ragged sob, Gin stumbled toward him, fighting against the cloying, stifling rage that sought to push her away. He needed her despite the ugliness of his words, the raw pain, the intense agony . . . He needed her . . .

Cain's hands shot up to stop her, and he was the one to back away this time. "Run, will you? Run away, and don't ever look back." He shook his head, swallowed hard; let his gaze fall away as he glowered at the floor. "I don't . . . don't need you, and you sure as hell don't need me."

She stared at him for a long moment, unable to believe what he was trying to tell her. Feeling the weight of his words pressing in on her, choking her, Gin couldn't help the tiny gasp, the stifled cry as tears swelled in her throat, behind her eyes.

Turning on her heel, she ran toward the door, unable to hold back her sob as she jerked on the door handle. '_He didn't mean that . . . He _couldn't_ mean that_ . . .'

Gin staggered to her apartment and wrenched the door open. Shuffling inside, over to the sofa, she sank down slowly, clutching her stomach as panic and desolation warred for control. Rocking back and forth as she hugged herself, as she told herself not to cry, she had never felt quite so alone, quite so lost. Everything that she thought she'd known, everything that she had dared to wonder . . . She couldn't help him, could she? The only one who could help Cain was himself, and maybe he really didn't want to do that, at all . . .

A violent lurch in her belly made her draw back, made her stumble to her feet. Smashing her hand over her mouth as she doubled over, as she ran toward the bathroom, Gin barely managed to control herself until she threw back the toilet seat. Sobbing made her feel sicker, and feeling sicker made her retch harder. When she was finally finished, she fell back, slumped against the wall as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, as she closed her eyes and tried to block out the hurtful things that Cain had said.

"_I don't . . . don't need you, and you sure as hell don't need me_."

'_Don't think about it, Gin . . . Don't think about anything at all_ . . .'

She wasn't sure why she found that amusing. '_Don't think about . . . anything . . .?_' The harshness of her welling laughter---the bitter tinge of near-madness echoing off the bathroom walls . . . If she didn't think about it, would it all go away?

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**_A/N_**:

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**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_But … Cain's not a killer _…

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_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	62. Undeniable Truths

**_Lemon Warning

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_This is supposed to be a lemon chapter; however THIS is the 'clean' version of the chapter, for those who don't care for the lime. If you want to read the lime, it isn't posted here. according to their TOS, will not allow the posting of Adult Rated Materials, so if you want to read the lime/lemon, see MY BIO ON MY AUTHOR PAGE. There is a link to my fanfics on Media Miner, where the lemons are posted. If you have trouble, you might have to adjust the settings to see ALL rated fics, as Media Miner is set to default at PG-13_.

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**_Chapter 62_**

**_Undeniable Truths

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"You know, there's only one thing that could make my birthday better."

Kichiro leaned back to gaze into Belle's eyes as he danced her around the living room. "Oh, yeah?"

She smiled. "Yes."

"What'd that be?"

Deliberately taking her time in answering, as if she was afraid of voicing her desires---or maybe she simply liked to string him along---Belle traced small circles on Kichiro's chest. The feel of her claw through the thin fabric of his shirt brought tiny goose bumps rippling over his skin. "Would you play a song for me?"

Kichiro frowned. "Why would you want that?"

Belle tangled her fingers into his and kissed them. "Well . . . you're good with your hands, right? And I'm a sucker for a guy who can play . . ."

"Are you, really?"

"Uh huh."

He sighed. "I don't play for people."

"I'm not just anyone, am I? I'm going to be your mate."

Smiling despite himself, Kichiro chuckled softly. "I like the sound of that. My mate . . ."

"So how about it? Will you play for me?"

"Belle . . ."

"Please?"

"Is it really that big a deal?"

"Sure, it is. Please, Kichiro? I'm begging . . ."

He groaned as Belle batted her eyelashes. "Begging, huh?"

She grinned, eyes glowing in the soft light of the one small lamp that stood on the table behind the sofa. "You like it when I beg?"

"I think I do."

"Of course you do. Please, Kichiro? Pretty please?" She paused, gaze lowering meaningfully before she went on, "The girls and I would really, really appreciate it."

"Would you, now? What's it in for me?"

She giggled. "Anything you want."

'_I like this girl_,' he thought absently as she stroked him through the rough fabric of his slacks. Closing his eyes as a delightful shiver ran up his spine, Kichiro pressed against her. "Okay, but you have to sit over there," he told her, jerking his head toward the darkest corner of the living room.

"In the dark?"

"And you can't say anything."

"Hmm . . . all right."

She squeezed him one last time and spun around to hurry over to the chair tucked into the corner. He made a point of staring down at his bulging pants and heaved a longsuffering sigh. "You're going to do something about this later, right?"

She winked at him.

He hated to play in front of anyone. Sure, he'd had recitals and exhibitions before, but those seemed different, he supposed as he slowly strolled over and sat down on the piano bench. Put into context with other students, it hadn't seemed like such a huge deal. For some reason, playing for Belle . . .

'_You're just worried that you'll screw it up, right? That you'll hit the wrong key and look like an idiot_.'

'_Completely wrong_,' he scoffed as he ran his fingers over the keys in a brief warm up exercise.

'_Uh huh_ . . .'

Kichiro spared a glance at Belle. Sitting demurely with her hands clasped in her lap, legs together, knees leaning to the side, she offered him a smile of encouragement just before he looked away again. Closing his eyes as he paused with is hands poised above the keys, he cleared his mind, concentrated on one of the sonatas that he knew by heart.

The first notes were a little tentative, filtering through the house with a timid sort of grace. The sense of the confined space faded little by little, and Kichiro felt the lifting of his soul, of his mind. Transported to a place where only the music existed, it was this feeling that he craved; the odd sense of detachment only to be caught up in something entirely structured and somehow completely free.

He could have played for minutes or hours. Losing track of time was natural. The rich timbres of the piano and the understated elegance of the song lent one another a quiet lethargy, and even the hushed whisper of movement didn't completely sever his trance.

"Kichiro."

He opened his eyes slowly, brows arching as he stared at the naked hanyou on his piano. His playing didn't falter as he deliberately let his gaze roam up and down her body. Lying on her side with her cheek propped on her elbow, she grinned at him. One leg bent demurely, hiding the source of her intoxicating scent, she clucked her tongue and sighed. "I want you to keep playing," she remarked casually, a thoughtful scowl marring her forehead. "Then again, there's just something about it . . . What are the odds you can play the piano and pay attention to me at the same time?"

He chuckled but didn't miss a note. "One or the other, princess . . . I think you know which one I'd rather do."

"It doesn't bother you? Having a nude princess on your precious piano?"

"My two favorite things? I don't think so . . ."

Belle rolled over onto her belly, rising up on her hands and knees to prowl to the edge of the piano. "Do you want your present now, Dr. Izayoi?"

Staring at her breasts as her scent unfurled around him, Kichiro pulled the cover over the keys and caught Belle under the arms, dragging her off the piano. She shifted to straddle his lap, grinding her sex against him. "Fuck the present, Belle. I've got something better in mind . . ."

Draping her arms around his neck, she laughed huskily. "But I think you'll like it."

"I like eating your pussy more," he assured her. "And I'm starving."

"I'm dog-hanyou, just like you," she pointed out, voice low, soothing like water in the moonlight . . . "Pussy?"

"You purr like a cat when I service you," he remarked. "It fits."

Her laughter was shaky at best. "I really think . . . you'll like what I bought you," she murmured again. "Then I'll purr for you; I promise."

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"You're so bad," she reprimanded despite the deepening of her fragrance. Heady, powerful, it nearly overwhelmed him.

"Yeah, I am," he agreed with an unrepentant grin. "You win. Give me this present fast or all bets are off."

Making a show of her mock-defeat, Belle heaved a heavy sigh and stood up. He moaned as the flash of blushed pinkness peeked from beneath the glossy blanket of bronze curls; as her scent spiked with her movements. '_Damn, she's lethal_,' he mused.

"Why don't you get naked, and then close your eyes."

He cast her a suspicious glance. "Close my eyes?" he echoed.

"I didn't get to wrap it," she said with an innocent blink.

"I learned not to close my eyes without a damn good reason," he countered as he started unbuttoning his shirt. "Having siblings will do that to you."

"I didn't have siblings," she reminded him. "Now strip, will you? And close your eyes."

"Demanding wench," he grumbled but complied.

Belle didn't try to hide her avid attention as he stripped off his clothes. "Nice," she breathed.

He grinned, cocking an eyebrow, dropping his slacks in a careless heap. "Something interest you?"

"Maybe."

He chuckled. "We'll see about that."

"Close your eyes."

"Belle---"

"Kichiro . . ."

He snorted loudly but closed his eyes.

The rustle of her soft movements made his ears twitch. Turning his head toward the sounds, he scowled as he heard her approach. "Can I open my eyes yet?"

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His brain slowed to a crawl as he tried to understand what she was doing. The scent in the air reminded him of the perfunctory surgical gloves that he loathed but had to endure, and yet there was something altogether different about it, too. He felt the friction as she pushed against him, her hand leaving the oddest sense of dulled sensation. '_It's a . . . she . . . kami_ . . .'

"You can open your eyes now," Belle said, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes snapped open, and he blinked as he stared at her face. Flushed but without a trace of embarrassment, Belle knelt on the floor with a smile brightening her eyes.

He stared at her for a moment before looking down at her 'present'. Blinking in near-shock as he slowly shook his head, he shot her a questioning glance. "It's a . . . condom," he remarked.

She giggled. "So what do you think?"

"I don't know," he drawled, lifting his hand to make sure the condom was completely covering him. "It's . . . green."

"Well, the vending machine only had the colored ones," Belle explained. "Anyway, I didn't get a purple one---more's the pity. Just green, blue, and red."

"Three? You only bought three?"

Belle rolled her eyes as Kichiro sank to his knees. "I only had enough change for three," she explained. "Three's okay, right?"

"Kami, no," he grumbled as he crawled toward her. "Why didn't you just buy a box of them?"

Belle laughed, leaning back then dropping onto the floor. "I was with my daddy!" she complained, tugging at his shoulders. He resisted. "Anyway . . . are you going to growl at me . . . or are you going to . . . fuck me?"

An apocalyptic clap of thunder ricocheted through the stillness of the house and shot through his body at Belle's question. "Like that's even a question," he scoffed as she spread her legs, lifted her hips against his. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure? If the condom breaks, telling your daddy would be a little anticlimactic . . ."

"Then we'll deal with that," she answered. "I want you, Kichiro . . . just you."

"Good answer," he muttered as her body opened to him.

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Belle captured his lips, sucked on his bottom lip. He growled, curling his lip before nipping at her. "Calm down, princess."

"I can't," she pouted. "I _like_ this . . ."

He started to pull out of her. She whimpered, lifting her hips to keep him in place. "You want to do this?"

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed.

"Then be still, will you?"

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He rolled to the side, dragging Belle with him, savoring the feel of her body against his. She was laughing---or was she crying? He tipped her chin and looked at her. "You okay?"

She sniffled and laughed. "Never better," she assured him.

"Not sore? Nothing?"

Belle moaned softly and sat up, carefully pulling the used condom off his still-hard penis. "You didn't come?"

"Duh, princess. What do you think is in that thing?" he grumbled.

She laughed again. "I love the hanyou recovery powers," she quipped as she scooted over to retrieve another condom---the red one---off the coffee table.

"We don't have to use all those tonight," he said gently. "If you're sore at all . . ."

"But I'm not," she argued. "And didn't you say something about if I wanted to 'do this'?"

He smiled, brushing aside the misplaced feelings of utter disgust brought on by the sight of the new condom that Belle had in her hands. Something else must have occurred to her, though, and she winked at him before hopping to her feet and hurrying out of the room. '_This way or not at all_,' he told himself. '_Just until she can tell her father _. . .'

Truth of it was that he would be more than happy to tell Zelig Cain that Belle was going to be his mate. Too bad Belle thought that it'd be easier, coming from her.

Kichiro sighed and sat up, figuring that he might as well give her the other birthday presents he'd gotten for her---no small feat, considering that he hadn't known yesterday that her birthday was today . . .

After retrieving the two small, wrapped packages from the drawer in the table behind the sofa, he had just stretched out on the carpet again when Belle strolled into the room with a thick violet washcloth. "What's that?" he asked, nodding at the cloth.

"I thought I'd clean you up a little," she told him, her tone indicating that he really ought to have known as much.

"Do you want the rest of your presents?" he asked.

"You mean the tiara wasn't my present?"

He rolled his eyes as she gently wiped him clean. "Right, princess. A few pieces of cut glass in a cheap tin frame? Be serious."

She set the damp cloth aside and finally seemed to notice the two small gift boxes. "Which one should I open first?"

He shrugged. "The bigger one."

She didn't need encouraging as she tore into the paper and ripped it off. Turning the black velvet box in her hands, she shot him a questioning glance before slowly lifting the lid. Her eyes widened as she stared at the diamond and amethyst bracelet nestled in the bed of black silk. It wasn't an exact match for the necklace and earrings, but it was damn close. "Kichiro . . ."

"Hmm?"

"It's beautiful."

He shook his head and snorted. "I've told you: jewelry is nice. _You_ are beautiful."

She blushed but smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. Playfully showering his face with kisses, she dropped the jeweler's box and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Don't . . . you want . . . your other . . . present?" he asked between kisses.

"Okay," she agreed readily enough, kissing him a few more times before letting go and sitting back to lift the second, smaller box. "This looks like a . . ."

"Just open it," he told her.

She cast him a suspicious glance but opened the box, tearing that paper off and letting it fall away in her rush to get to whatever was inside. "Oh, my," she gasped as she stared in quiet wonder at the amethyst and diamond ring. "Is this . . .?"

"You're going to marry me, right? Whenever . . .?"

The slow smile that spread over her features was brilliant, remarkable. With shaking hands, she pulled the platinum ring out of the box and handed it to Kichiro. "Of course I am!" she said, her voice taking on a higher pitch as she sniffled and blinked.

He grimaced. "You're not supposed to cry," he grumbled, ears flattening as the scent of her tears assailed him. He took her hand and carefully slipped the ring onto her finger. She didn't even spare it a glance as she flung her arms around him, showering his face with kisses once more.

"This makes it official, right? We're going to be together forever?"

"Absolutely," he agreed. "Now about those other condoms . . ."

She giggled, the change in her mood sudden, drastic. Remarkable, how quickly she could flash from one extreme to the other . . . Either way, he figured he was luckier than some. Belle's libido rivaled his own, and that just might be a really good thing . . .

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'_What the hell have you done, Cain?_' 

Wandering down the street with no real destination in mind, Cain hunched his shoulders forward, shook his head, tried to brush aside the feeling that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. '_She's better off without me_.'

'_She might be_,' his youkai agreed. '_We aren't, though . . . You lied to her. You lied about needing her. You lied_ . . .'

He grimaced. Why was it so simple, to forget about Isabelle, to forget the things that couldn't be changed? Why was it so much easier to let himself believe that being with Gin would make everything all right?

And Gin . . .

'_I wasn't even mad at her, not really . . . I was just . . . angry, and she . . . She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve any of that . . . Maybe I really am a monster; if not because of what I did to Isabelle, then for what I did to Gin_ . . .'

The scent of her tears still filled his head; the pathetic sound of her retching . . . the chilling ring of her humorless laughter . . . And in the end Cain could only close her door, couldn't bring himself to face her. He'd known that he didn't deserve a woman like her, then he'd gone out of his way to prove it, too.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been wandering. Minutes or hours, it felt like a lifetime. He heard the distant rumble of thunder. It seemed so far away. A hundred voices, a thousand sighs, a million whispers, and they all sounded like _her_. The vague recollection of his beautiful dream; the flash of golden eyes and silvery hair . . . With every step that carried him just a little further away, he felt another stab in his chest; a pain so deep, so unrelenting, that even the first droplets of rain did not wash away the lingering guilt.

"_Don't make excuses for me! Don't stand there and look at me with pity in your heart and horror in your eyes! I'd rather you hate me than pity me, damn it! Take your justifications and your good intentions and get out, Gin! Just get out! I don't even want to fucking _look_ at you_ . . ."

There was a bitter truth in that; a strange sense of irony that he couldn't help but notice. Seeing her shy away from him . . . he didn't want to admit how badly that hurt him. She'd drawn away from him like he had struck her. Then again, maybe he had done it, only with words instead of his hand. Psychological pain was worse, wasn't it? Bruises healed. Cuts would scab over, and those scabs would fall away, but the words would linger, wouldn't they? Words and the memories of things that couldn't be changed . . . Those things would stay when everything else faded to black. All of his anger had dissolved in that instant, replaced by the sadness that he had done what he had never wanted to do. To frighten Gin---to look her in the eye and know that he was the reason she was afraid . . .

The same sense of panic in another face, in another time . . . aqua eyes clouded with the same sense of worry, with the very same suspicion of what was to come despite Cain's stubborn reassurances that he wouldn't let it happen. '_She reeked of death, and you insisted on lying . . . She knew it, and you knew it, and you stubbornly held to the hope that you could change it, mighty tai-youkai. All nature bows to your whims, doesn't it? And still she died, didn't she? And still she died_ . . .'

'_I _. . .'

'_Your desires, Cain, your will. You wanted Isabelle from the moment you saw her. You didn't bother to explain things to her the way she deserved to be told. You blamed her for your weakness, and you trapped her. You blamed me, didn't you? You blamed your youkai blood for it, and then you realized just a little too late that Isabelle wanted different things than you did. Wouldn't it have been enough, just to let her go? You could have. You could have said goodbye to her. You could have let her walk away, and if you had, she'd be safe, wouldn't she? One last barter, Cain . . . one last mistake_ . . .'

'_It wasn't . . . Isabelle wasn't a mistake! She _couldn't_ have been a mistake, because_---'

'_Because if she were, then Bellaniece would be one, too? That could be true, couldn't it? Then, too, Bellaniece could also be the blessing you didn't deserve to have_.'

Slumping against the smeared window of a grimy little convenience store, Cain dug his cigarettes out of his pocket, groaning softly when he realized that the pack was empty. He tossed the pack toward the trash can but didn't wait to see if he'd managed to hit the mark as he turned and pulled the door open, slipping inside, blinking in confusion at the merry chime of the bells above the door. Rain dripped from his hair, splattering on the floor as his feet squelched in his shoes. Stopping behind a boy who didn't look older than fifteen, Cain looked around without really seeing as the red-faced boy slipped the small box of condoms onto the counter, peeking around to make sure he wasn't recognized, Cain supposed.

"Can I help you?"

Cain glanced at the girl behind the counter, suppressing the unsettling desire to laugh. "Marlboro Reds," he muttered as his gaze slid to the side, away from the girl. Staring at the light pink, vinyl covered boxes stacked on the end of the counter, Cain reached out slowly, picked one up, ran his claw along the shiny gold-plated clasp. He didn't need to lift the lid to know what was inside. The same awful red blotter-paper, die cut and pasted to the interior of the cardboard box, and the little plastic ballerina who danced to the perpetual tinkle of the softly chiming music box.

_Belle had begged for one of those. She wasn't more than five at the time. "Please, Daddy? Please? I promise I'll be careful with it! I promise I'll be good!_"

_Cain had smiled at her, just a little. "All right, Bellaniece. Remember, though, you promised_ . . ."

_Belle had carried it all the way home. She'd carried it around for months. "Daddy? Doesn't she get dizzy? I'd get dizzy, if I spun around that much_ . . ."

"_No, Bellaniece . . . Ballerinas do that all the time_."

"_Daddy? Does she go to sleep when I close the box?_"

"_Uh, yeah . . . yeah, she does_."

"_Daddy? Did Mama look like when she danced?_"

_Cain swallowed hard. "No . . . your mother was . . . much prettier than that doll_."

"_Daddy? Will you wind my music box so I can watch her dance some more?_"

_She'd been inconsolable when the ballerina broke off her little stand. Cain had looked for another one---the silly little jewelry box . . . He hadn't been able to find one. It was the one promise he'd made Bellaniece that he'd never been able to keep _. . .

"I'll . . . I'll take this, too," Cain said, slipping the box onto the counter. The girl nodded and added it to his total, and Cain dropped a handful of bills before taking the bag and heading for the door, ignoring the girl's insistence that she had to give him his change.

The rain beat down on the nearly deserted street. The darkness of the shadows was deeper, more mysterious. The strobe effect of the lightning cast the world in an eerie glow. A few people hurried past Cain with newspapers over their heads.

'_It was storming back then, wasn't it? Storming, just like this, only worse_ . . .'

The lightning flashed again. Cain blinked as distorted images of pleading aqua eyes burned him. "_Please, Cain . . . You have to_ . . ."

Gritting his teeth together as he closed his eyes to block out the sight, to block out the sound of her voice, he shook his head; he walked a little faster. '_Isabelle . . . I'm so sorry_ . . .'

But the whisper of another voice intruded, drew him back from the edge of insanity.

"_I just want to help you_ . . ."

Why did she try? Why did she want to save him? Why . . .?

"_We're friends. Friends . . . don't need to put labels on each other_."

'_Gin . . .?_'

"_I just don't want you to feel like I've ever expected more from you than you can give_ . . ."

Cain sighed. '_What I can give . . .? For Gin?_'

He didn't know the answer to that. He wasn't sure how much he had, wasn't entirely positive that he had anything left to give her, at all. Yet the nagging thought, the ever-present knowledge ate at him. Gin had never, ever asked him for a thing, had she? She gave him her smiles, her laughter, and she'd never asked him for a thing.

Gin, the girl who didn't know what it meant, to hurt someone she loved . . . She hadn't known how ugly the world was. She hadn't realized that some things come with a very high price. She hadn't done a thing but reminded him what it was like to want to live. He owed her, at least for that. He owed her for a lot of things. Would it be so bad, to tell her the truth? She deserved to know that, didn't she? Deserved to know the things that he couldn't change . . .

'_Do I have anything left? Anything at all? Anything worth giving someone like Gin?_'

'_Do you really have to ask yourself that? You already know the answer, Cain_ . . .'

'_Maybe I do_,' he thought with a wince. '_Maybe I do_ . . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle sighed happily as she pushed her bedroom door closed and wandered over to turn on the lamp. The apartment was so quiet---almost eerily so, and she couldn't help the sharp pang of sadness as she remembered the odd look on Kichiro's face when she'd slipped the ring off her finger and put it in his hand for safekeeping. 

"_I'll wear it whenever I'm with you," she promised. "But until I tell Daddy _. . ."

"_It's fine," he assured her despite the melancholy expression in his gaze. Ears drooping just a little, eyes glowing with a somber sense of resignation, he shrugged and forced a smile. "You sure you don't want me to tell your old man? Because I don't have a problem with that, either_ . . ."

"_I should tell him," she maintained. "I _will_ tell him. I just need to find the right time_."

"_I know; I know. It's okay_."

"_Meet me at my window?_"

_His smile widened. "I could do that_."

She's slipped back inside without any incident. Grinning as she crossed to the window and pushed it open, she giggled softly as Kichiro leaned inside to kiss her. "I feel like a fucking pup," he grumbled. "Sneaking around, trying to catch a glimpse of . . . Oi, what's that?"

Belle turned her head, following the direction of Kichiro's gaze, and frowned. The small box on her bed was wrapped in white paper---her father's sketching paper---and secured with a gauzy iridescent ribbon. Wandering over to it, she lifted it slowly, turning the gift from side to side as she smiled at the streaks of primary colors---finger paints---which Cain had used to decorate the paper. "It's from Daddy," she said, her voice almost awed as she shuffled back to the window. "He made the paper, himself! That's what he does at Christmas!"

Kichiro leaned through the window, staring at the package in her hands with a thoughtful scowl. "I thought he didn't wrap your birthday presents."

"He doesn't; not normally. In fact, I don't remember him ever wrapping my birthday presents before . . . I wonder what it is . . ."

"Open it."

Belle nodded and turned the package over, tugging the ribbon and letting the paper fall away. She never tore the paper her father decorated for her gifts. It didn't matter if it took him less than a minute to decorate. She'd saved every one of those papers . . . "Daddy . . ." she murmured as she ran her fingertips over the cheap pink vinyl that had been pressed to look like imitation leather. "He remembered . . ."

"Remembered?"

How long had she cried that day the ballerina in her music box had broke off? It seemed that she'd cried for hours over that silly bit of plastic. Then again she was five at the time . . .

"_Don't cry, Bellaniece. I'll find another one for you; I promise_ . . ."

He'd looked everywhere but hadn't been able to find another one. She'd thought that he had forgotten. _She'd_ forgotten, hadn't she? After all these years, and still her daddy remembered . . .

Carefully unlatching the thin metal clasp, she flipped the lid back as the ballerina hopped up and started to dance. Listening to the little chime of the music box's song, Belle brushed away a tear before it slid down her cheek. "I can't believe it . . ."

"I doubt your father wanted to make you cry," Kichiro pointed out gently.

Belle nodded and sniffled. "I know. I just thought . . . I can't believe he remembered . . ."

"Remembered what?"

"I had one of these when I was little," she explained. "It broke, and he promised he'd buy me another one, but he couldn't find one, and . . . Stupid, isn't it? It's just a silly little jewelry box."

"It's not stupid," he told her with a sigh. "If it were stupid, you wouldn't be crying."

"He's my daddy," she whispered, casting Kichiro a sad little smile. "He's all I had until I met you . . ."

"I know," he assured her, grinning slightly as she wound the box and lifted the lid.

She watched the tiny plastic ballerina spin around and laughed softly as tears filled her eyes again. He pushed her bangs out of her eyes as she turned to look at him. "Do daddies always remember things, even after their children forget?"

Kichiro shrugged. "I think they do."

She sniffled again, gaze returning to the tiny dancing figure. "This is why it's so hard. Daddy just . . . and I . . . I'll tell him about us, but . . ."

Kichiro seemed sad as he gazed at the dancing ballerina. Finally he sighed and leaned in to kiss Belle's forehead. "I told you, princess, it's all right. I can wait for you."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

… _Damn it _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	63. Warnings

**_Chapter 63_**

**_Warnings

* * *

_**

"I know you're in there. Open the door . . ."

Cain sighed and let his head fall back against the cold metal. Closing his eyes as he heaved a long sigh, he waited, listened, willed her to answer him.

Over three days, it'd been, since he'd last seen her face. The morning after Bellaniece's birthday, he'd gotten up and showered then stared at the cake she'd left on his counter. She must have made it while she made Bellaniece's birthday cake. Wincing as it struck him, just how entirely thoughtful the young hanyou woman was, he reached for the telephone, dialed her number. Uttering a frustrated growl when the happy sound of her voice on the answering machine kicked in, Cain didn't bother leaving a message.

He figured he'd be able to talk to her after class, and he would have, if she had been there. No, Gin wasn't there, and she'd missed classes the rest of the week. She wouldn't answer her door though he could feel her there, and she refused to answer her phones. He'd left countless messages on her answering machine and voicemail. Talking until he'd run out of room and was cut off, he'd call back and talk more, all in the hopes that she'd answer. He had considered breaking the door down yesterday. That'd just make it all that much worse, wouldn't it?

He'd been such a fool; such an ass. Beautiful Gin, with her heart in her eyes whenever she smiled, whenever she laughed . . . He'd taken that away from her, hadn't he? He'd broken her and belittled her, and maybe he'd deserve it, if she never opened her door to him again . . .

Unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to do much of anything but think and worry, to wish in vain that he could take back the hurtful things he'd said to her . . . Cain thumped the back of his head against the door as he slouched a little lower, as he squeezed his eyes closed. "Come on, baby girl . . . Just open the door . . ."

He wanted to fix it. He needed to tell her. Driven by the absolute need to explain to her that he really hadn't meant anything he'd said, and yet he couldn't blame her if she didn't believe him. He'd done the unforgivable. She wasn't to blame for his anger or upset. Gin wouldn't hurt him, and he knew it. No, he'd just been irked by the comments he had heard, outraged that anyone they thought he'd not done the very best he could with Bellaniece; the irrational sense that they should have known that there was a damn good reason why they didn't celebrate his only child's birthday. It didn't matter, in the end. The one person he never wanted to hurt was the one person who had suffered the brunt of his tirade. The guilt inspired by the memory of Gin's expression haunted him, and even if he didn't deserve a chance to tell her how sorry he was, he wanted one, anyway. He hadn't meant to hurt her . . .

"Gin, I'm sorry---sorrier than you know . . . Will you let me in? Let me explain? Please . . ."

Not a sound, not a whisper of movement. No shift in her youki to let him know that she heard him at all. He'd been desperate enough last night to fly around the building, to look in her windows. He'd seen her in the darkness; the tiny form curled up in her bed. Wincing at the somber hues of her aura, she'd seemed so distant, so untouchable. He wasn't sure if it had been worse to see her that way or if it had been more painful, that she'd closed all her windows against him.

Worse, too, was that Bellaniece had known. Remarking that first morning that he didn't look like he'd slept well, he'd ignored her commentary as he tried to pretend that he hadn't heard her at all. When she hesitantly asked if he had trouble sleeping because of her birthday party, he shook his head, told her not to be ridiculous . . .

The second morning was no better. Noticing the lack of cake, Bellaniece had asked him if there was something wrong. He'd denied that, but she hadn't believed him. He'd managed to escape further questioning by retreating to the bathroom to shower, and by the time she'd reappeared after work long enough to shower and change to go out for the evening, Cain had been ensconced in his studio under the guise of working.

By the third morning, Bellaniece had to have known that something wasn't right. He must have looked as bad as he felt because she had gone so far as to feel his forehead for signs of fever. He'd shot her a dark look for that and pushed her hand away. He'd told her that he simply hadn't been sleeping well. She looked like she wanted to argue that, but in the end, she'd squeezed his arm and told him to go find Gin.

If it were only that easy . . .

His body ached. Lack of sleep, surely . . . hours spent sitting outside her door hadn't helped, either. He couldn't remember feeling quite this bad before. Physically drained, emotionally exhausted . . . He couldn't eat or sleep, couldn't concentrate on anything when his mind was right here, with her . . .

Gin had to come out sometime, didn't she?

Cain sighed. Of course she did. Resolved to sit and wait for her to do that, resolved to talk to her, to make her listen to him, he'd taken up his post a few hours ago when he'd given up hope of actually being able to sleep.

'_You're stalking her_.'

'_I'm not stalking her_.'

'_You're sitting against her door, Cain. Sounds like stalking to me_.'

'_Aren't you the one who said I needed to fix this?_'

'_Sure, but not by sitting outside her door, waiting to pounce on her, and maybe _. . .'

''_Maybe', what?_'

'_Maybe it's better this way, Cain. Maybe . . . maybe you should just leave well enough alone. Aren't you the one who believes that she's better off without you?_'

Cain smacked his head back against the door again. Still no sound from within. '_Better off? Sure, she is. Of course she is_.'

'_Then why are you doing this?_'

He smiled sadly, shook his head as he opened his eyes and gazed down the empty hallway. '_Because I . . . I need her. I need her more than she'll ever need me_ . . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle opened her bedroom door, her smile bright as she anticipated spending the entire day with Kichiro. So far as she knew, he hadn't made any plans, and that was fine with her. It didn't really matter what they did so long as they were together, right?

'_Just try to remember that you're a lady_.'

'_You think I'd forget?_'

'_Around him? Yes._'

Her smile widened. '_Can I help it if he adores me?_'

'_Adores you? Way to put a nice face on lust, Bellaniece_.'

'_Not even you can ruin my mood_.'

Turning away, Belle stopped short as a frown surfaced when she spotted Cain, slouching in the window, eyes closed, temple resting on the cool glass pane. She'd thought he was still in bed. She was going to leave him a note explaining that she had offered to help Kichiro catch up on some of his work. She'd failed to mention, however, that his work was 'research' . . . She hadn't realized he was already up, or was it that he'd never gone to bed?

'_Don't be silly. If he hadn't gone to bed last night, you wouldn't have been able to sneak out to see Kichiro_.'

'_That's true_ . . .'

Cain didn't move and didn't notice when Belle approached and knelt beside him. Thick stubble covered his jaws. He looked like he hadn't shaved in days. She grimaced. In the last few days, she hadn't really noticed much of anything. So wrapped up in her own little world of discovery with Kichiro, she hadn't spared her father more than a few moments' thought.

"_Daddy? Are you all right?" she'd asked him yesterday morning before she left for work_.

"_Fine," he said flatly. "Never better_."

"_You're sure?_"

"_Yep, absolutely_."

"_No cake? Come to think of it, there wasn't a cake yesterday, either . . . Is everything okay with you and Gin?_"

"_Gin? Sure . . . Gin's great_."

"_Daddy_ . . ."

_He forced a wan smile. The darkened circles under his eyes gave him an owlish appearance, a haggard bearing that made her flinch. "You're going to be late if you don't get moving_."

_He didn't seem to want to tell her anything more, so she kissed his cheek and left him_.

Had it really been less than twenty-four hours ago, that she had that conversation with him? Cheeks sunken slightly under the sharp bristles of whiskers, skin pale, sallow, he looked a lot less like the man she'd come to know as her father. Why would he look so bad? She touched his cheek.

Eyes flashing open, he looked completely disoriented. Grabbing her wrist, he blinked as he stared at her, and it seemed to take him a moment to recognize her. "Daddy? Are you okay?" she asked as he loosened his hold on her wrist.

"What? Oh, yeah . . . fine."

"Why aren't you in bed?"

"Wha . . .? I must have fallen asleep out here . . ."

Belle winced at the discernable shaking of Cain's hands. "Daddy? What's happening?"

"I'm just tired," he maintained. "Really, really tired . . ."

"Did you and Gin have a fight?"

Cain sighed and untangled his legs as he stood up and stretched with a marked grimace. "Fight? Hardly . . . It takes two people to fight, doesn't it?"

"Daddy?"

He shook his head as he pulled a cigarette out his rumpled pack and dug around for a lighter. Belle grabbed a pack of matches off the dining table and, ignoring the voice in her head that reprimanded her for encouraging her father's bad habits; she stepped toward him, struck a match, and held it up to light his cigarette. "Thought you hated my smoking."

"I do," she quipped lightly. "I also know you hate it when I badger you."

"That's never stopped you before."

"If you two didn't have a fight, will you tell me what did happen?"

Cain took a deep drag off his cigarette; hand shaking as he carefully tapped the ash into the heaping tray. "It's nothing."

"You don't look so hot."

"I told you: I haven't been sleeping so great."

"You know, I haven't really seen Gin since my . . . birthday . . . party . . ." Belle gasped softly, eyes flaring wide as she shook her head, trying to deny what she was starting to grasp. "That's what it was, wasn't it? You . . . Daddy, you didn't . . ."

He was going to lie to her. She could see it in his eyes as he flinched and started to open his mouth to refute her assumptions.

"You got angry at Gin? Because of me?"

Cain snapped his mouth closed and grimaced. "What? No! Of course not! Not really, anyway . . ."

"Can you talk to her? It's been, what? Three days?"

"Almost four," he grumbled, smashing his cigarette out in the ashtray.

"But why didn't you say something to her after class?"

Casting Belle a look of sheer chagrin, Cain snorted. "Pfft! And you don't think that I would have if I could?"

"Then why didn't you?"

He sighed, throwing his hands up in a defeated gesture as he flopped onto the sofa. "Because she wasn't . . . she wasn't there."

"Did you try to call her?'

That earned her a glower.

"Okay, you tried to call her . . . Did you knock on her door?"

"Bellaniece---"

"Did she know it was you?"

He sighed again. "Yes, she knew it was me. She had to. She doesn't want to see me, and I can't really blame her for that."

"Are you giving up?"

Cain winced and dragged his hands over his face, shoulders slumping, a sadness in his gaze when he finally glanced up at her. "She's better off without me," he said quietly.

"You don't believe that," Belle chided, sinking onto the sofa beside him. "Daddy . . . she's your cake fairy."

Cain seemed startled by Belle's statement, but he nodded slowly. "You're right."

She patted his hand and quickly kissed his cheek. "Some advice?"

He looked up at her but didn't speak as he waited to hear her pearls of wisdom. "Okay, I'll bite."

She giggled. "Try to take a nap. Those circles under your eyes look bad. Oh, and another thing? You might want to shower and shave. Making up is the best part, isn't it?"

"I'll pretend you didn't just say that," Cain grumbled, cheeks pinking as he stood up and shook his head.

Belle giggled and hugged him. "I'd stay here and make sure you were presentable, but I promised Dr. Izayoi I'd help him with some stuff."

"Stuff? What kind of stuff? And just why have you been spending so much time with Dr. Dog, anyway?"

"We're friends," she assured him. "He is a really interesting person. Anyway, there were a few things that he needs to catch up on since we were in Maine for so long," she lied, hoping her father didn't notice.

His preoccupation was evident, and for once, he didn't question Belle further. "All right. Just don't stay out too late."

"Of course not, Daddy." She wiggled her fingers at him as she hurried toward the door. Outside in the hallway, she stopped and sighed, her smile fading away as she pondered her father's words. "_Yes, she knew it was me. She had to. She doesn't want to see me, and I can't really blame her for that._"

Gin was home; Belle could feel her aura. Sadness, loneliness . . . she could sense these things in Gin's youki but couldn't quite discern the underlying emotion. Before she could talk herself out of it, Belle rapped on the door. "Gin? Gin, it's me: Belle . . ."

Pressing her ear against the door didn't help. Belle scowled and rattled the door knob. It was locked. "Gin, Daddy's really worried . . ."

Still no answer. Belle sighed as she stepped back. '_Daddy'll get her to open the door, right?_'

'_Of course he will. Your father will make her listen._'

Belle nodded. '_It's nothing . . . I'm just being paranoid_.'

'. . . _Sure, you are._'

But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something that she didn't quite understand. Belle ran down the stairs and hurried outside into the early morning sunshine that was trying to burn off the perpetual haze that settled over the city. Hailing a taxi, she asked the driver to take her to InuYasha's Forest---to Kichiro's house.

Staring at the passing buildings as the vehicle crept through the streets, Belle gnawed on her bottom lip. '_Gin's sad and lonely without Daddy . . . but what was that other feeling?_'

Try as she might, she couldn't quite place it. Digging her cell phone out of her purse, Belle dialed Gin's cell phone number. The voicemail greeted her after the fourth ring, and Belle waited impatiently until Gin's cheerful greeting gave way to the perfunctory beep. "Gin, this is Belle again. I was just calling to see what you were doing . . . I'll be over at your brother's house if you need me. Bye."

Her father's face and cryptic statements filtered through her head again. He'd looked sad, sure, but there was something else there, too. He'd seemed like he'd given up hope. "_She's better off without me_ . . ."

Belle dialed Gin's home phone number and waited as the taxi turned into the narrow path that led into the forest. The answering machine clicked on, but instead of getting the beep, Belle heard a strange mechanical voice, instead. "Message center full. Please try back later."

Dropping a handful of bills over the seat as she snapped her phone closed and stumbled out of the taxi, Belle ran up to the door as she fumbled for the key Kichiro had given her. The feeling that something was wrong was getting worse by the second. She only wished she knew why.

Kichiro looked up from the newspaper, pausing with his coffee mug poised at his mouth. "Something wrong?" he asked before tipping the cup.

Belle dropped her purse on the table and grimaced. "I hope not."

That got his attention. Setting the cup aside and folding the paper, he sat back and held out his hands. "Okay, I'm not getting what you mean, but I'm sure you'll explain."

"First . . . Promise me you let me explain everything before you say anything."

He sighed. "All right; I promise."

"And you won't get mad till after I'm done."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm going to be mad about this?"

Belle wrung her hands. "Maybe . . . probably . . ."

". . . Okay . . ."

"Coffee!" Belle blurted quickly, hurrying over to grab the coffee carafe and refill his cup. Kichiro reached over, plucking the carafe from her and set it on the table beside him. She sighed. "Do you need anything? Toast? Grilled cheese?"

"Belle . . ."

"Sorry," she said as she pulled out a chair to sit down but thought better of it and started pacing the floor instead. "Do you remember the night I called you?"

"I remember _lots_ of nights when you call me," he remarked with a raised eyebrow.

She completely missed the double-entendre, which should have tipped him off to the severity of her thoughts. "Remember? The night you left me at the restaurant?"

He snorted. "Feh! I said I was sorry for that, and---"

She waved her hands to shut him up. "It's not about that," she assured him. "Just . . . do you remember why I was so happy?"

He nodded slowly. "You said your father was on a date with someone . . ."

Belle sucked in her bottom lip before blowing it back out with a gust of air. "Yeah."

"Are you going to make me drag this out of you?"

"What? No . . . I just . . . Well, you see, Daddy's been seeing this girl a lot. _A lot_: a lot."

"Mhmm."

"But, see, they sort of had a . . . fight . . . Maybe not a fight; more of a disagreement . . ."

"You're really not making much sense."

"I know."

"Why are you telling me about all this?"

"Daddy hasn't seen her in a few days---since the night of my birthday party, I think . . ."

Kichiro shook his head. "What does that have to do with anything? Your birthday, I mean."

Belle winced and stopped, leveling a look at Kichiro as she tapped her fingertips together. "She . . . Well, she sort of . . ."

"Spit it out, princess."

"You promised . . ."

He sighed and held up his hands to show her that he was going to comply with his vow. Suddenly, he sat up, gaze darkening as he narrowed his eyes on Belle. "Wait . . . She lives in your building, and she knew about your birthday party? Oh, kami . . ."

"I-I didn't . . ."

"Damn . . . Your father's been seeing my _sister?_"

"Well . . ." Belle sighed. "Yeah."

"Oh, fuck."

"Anyway, no one's seen her in nearly four days, and she won't answer her door, her answering machine is full, and she hasn't been in classes since then, either . . . Kichiro . . ." Belle hurried around the table and sat down, grasping his hand in both of hers. "I thought maybe . . . I thought you could get her to answer the door."

He didn't respond for a moment. Staring at her with an incredulous expression, he reached for his cell phone without taking his eyes off Belle. He didn't look away as he hit Gin's number, programmed into the speed dial, and he heaved a heavy sigh when he obviously got the same message Belle had. "Holy damn," he muttered as he shot to his feet and strode toward the door.

"Kichiro?"

He stopped and glanced back at her, his expression unreadable as he draped his hands on his hips and scowled around the room. "Stay here, Belle. Don't leave."

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?"

She winced but stood up. "I want to come with you."

He shook his head. "Stay. Here."

"But---"

"I'm going to go see what that bastard of a father of yours has done to my sister, Belle. Stay the fuck here."

". . . Okay . . ."

Grimacing when the door slammed closed moments later, Belle hurried to the window and gasped. She'd seen Kichiro run before, certainly. She'd never seen him run so fast, though.

'_He's going to hate me_,' she thought as she bit her bottom lip and pressed her fingertips against the window pane. '_He's going to hate me, and I . . . I deserve that . . . Keeping something from someone is as bad as lying, isn't it? I should have told him about Daddy and Gin a long time ago_ . . .'

'_What's does is done, Belle. Maybe Kichiro won't be too mad_.'

Belle wrapped her arms over her stomach and swallowed hard. Her normally confident youkai . . .

It was worried, too.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_As per FFnet's rules, I will not be posting Reviewer Responses or acknowledgements on uploaded chapters to FFnet. They will appear on the MMorg site posting … Sorry_!

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_Just open the door _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	64. Kichiro's Discoveries

**_Chapter 64_**

**_Kichiro's Discoveries

* * *

_**

Kichiro slammed his fist against the solid door. "Gin! Damn it, open this door or I swear to kami, I'll go get the old man, and you know I will!"

He didn't get an answer. "_Gin!_"

Rattling the locked door, Kichiro uttered a frustrated growl. "I'll give you to the count of three, baby girl! Get this fucking door open, or I'll break it down!" He backed up. He hated having to use brawn, but using brain wasn't working, and there was something entirely weird about Gin's youki . . . "One . . . two . . . three . . ."

The door clicked and opened. Kichiro shook his head and restrained the desire to smash the door open with his palm since he wasn't sure how close Gin was on the other side. Striding into her darkened apartment---she'd obviously pulled all the blinds---he stopped short upon seeing the remnants of Belle's birthday party littering the small dwelling. Gin was a neat freak, much like their mother. Why hadn't she cleaned up?

He grimaced, as he stared at the upheaval. There was a strange sort of malignance lingering in the place; as though Gin had just given up.

"What are you doing here?"

Whipping around to gape at his sister, Kichiro couldn't control the string of expletives that shot out of him. If he didn't know the creature before him was his baby sister, he wouldn't have believed it. Wrapped in a tattered old blanket---she'd had it for years---she refused to look him in the eye as she slumped against the wall for support. Hair stringy and dull, skin pale and drawn, she looked like a ghost of herself, and when she pushed a hand out of the blanket to rub her face, he winced. Cheekbones over deep hollows, eyes bulging and dim, her hand was shaking, and she shivered before clamping her mouth closed to keep her teeth from rattling.

"Gin?"

She refused to meet his gaze. "It's nothing," she assured him. "The flu . . ."

"The . . . Gin, you're hanyou. You don't get the flu."

"It can happen," she argued. "It's nothing."

Heaving a sigh as he slipped a hand under her elbow and tried not to wince at the sharpness of her bones beneath her skin, he helped her over to the sofa and gently pushed her down. "You look like shit!"

She managed a rather cold look before she buried her face in the familiar blanket. "Thanks, Kich."

"When's the last time you ate?"

Gin whimpered. "I don't know . . . I tried, but I kept throwing it up."

"How long have you been . . . sick?"

She seemed to shrink into herself a little. "Since Belle's party . . ."

". . . Damn it."

"I'm okay."

"The hell you are!"

"Just tired . . ."

"No!" he growled as he shot to his feet and stomped toward the kitchen. "Don't you do it! Don't you dare go to sleep! Do you hear me, Gin? I'll . . . I'll go get the old man; see if I don't."

She whimpered again but sat up a little.

Kichiro rifled through her cupboards to find something she might be able to hold down. A few rice crackers and half of a glass of milk seemed safe, and he slammed the refrigerator with a kick of his foot before hurrying back into the living room again. "Eat," he demanded.

Gin turned a sickly grayish-green shade and swallowed hard before sticking her hand out of the covers for the crackers.

"Gah, not that fast, baka!" he growled as Gin stuffed the handful of crackers into her mouth and hurriedly chewed and swallowed. "Don't you have any common---?"

Cut off when Gin stumbled off the sofa and ran toward the bathroom, Kichiro sighed and followed, only to find her right where he figured she'd be. Hunched over the toilet as she expelled the pitiful amount of food along with a good amount of bile, he winced and pulled her hair back away from her face. "It's that bastard, isn't it? Zelig . . . What's he done to you?"

Wiping her mouth with the back of her trembling hand, Gin couldn't hold back the soft sob that slipped from her at the mention of Cain's name. Kichiro grimaced and pulled Gin against his chest, smoothing her hair and muttering whatever came to mind in a vain effort to calm her down. "It's okay, I promise. You'll be okay . . . You're tougher than this . . . I'll kill him for hurting you . . ."

"He didn't, I sw-swear," she sniffled. "I d-d-did it . . . I hurt him . . . stupid, st-stupid . . ."

"Damn it, Gin . . . you answer me this: did you choose him?"

She sniffled and hiccupped and shook her head. "I . . . No. Of course not. I couldn't do that, you know? He's . . . That'd be really, really dumb . . ."

"Gin . . ."

"I'm just . . . sick . . ."

He sighed and hugged her. "You know, you're a fucking horrible liar, baby girl."

She whined. "Please don't tell Papa. He'd just get mad, a-a-and he'd _kill_ Cain, and . . . it's not his fault; really, it's not---"

"Shh," Kichiro soothed, rocking Gin as he stroked her hair. "I . . . I won't tell him . . ." He could feel her rising panic, and with that came the escalated beating of her heart. Considering how weak her system already was from the days of not being able to eat, the last thing she needed was more upset on top of all that she'd already endured. '_Just what the fuck did that bastard say to her?_' He stood up and set Gin on the closed toilet before dampening a washcloth and wiping her face. "Feeling any better?"

She nodded, lower lip quivering precariously. Kichiro smeared toothpaste onto her toothbrush and carefully put it in her hand. "Okay, can you do this?"

"Yes."

"Then you brush your teeth, then go lie down on the sofa. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

He forced a smile. "It's not important. Just sip your milk and lie down, okay?"

She nodded as she stuck the toothbrush into her mouth.

Satisfied that she'd be all right, at least for a few minutes, Kichiro strode out of her apartment and didn't stop until he was pounding on Cain's door.

The longer it took him to answer, the angrier Kichiro grew. A collage of memories---Gin's tears when she fell and scraped her knee . . . protecting Gin from a bully at school . . . running through the forest as she tried to chase him down . . . the little, pesky sister that he never could seem to shake off . . . Gin, hunkered over the toilet as she cried, as she shook . . .

Cain barely got the door open when Kichiro threw his fist straight into the youkai's chin. He stumbled back but didn't lose his balance. Kichiro shoved the door open and strode inside. It smacked into the wall and bounced closed. "You selfish bastard!" Kichiro snarled, careful to keep his voice lowered in case Gin could hear him. Eyes reddened, dull, expression haggard and drawn, somewhere in the back of his mind, the idea that Cain didn't look completely unaffected registered to him, but he brushed that aside. He didn't care if the tai-youkai was suffering, too. Gin was important, and Cain . . . he was going to fix it or else . . .

Cain clutched his jaw and moved it gingerly but didn't speak as he shot Kichiro a rather bored look. That was invitation enough, as far as Kichiro was concerned. Swinging his fist again and catching Cain's cheek, he watched in grim satisfaction as Cain's head snapped to the side. When he swung his face around to glower at the hanyou, wiping the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth, the tai-youkai finally looked irritated. Kichiro cracked his knuckles.

"I guess I'll assume I deserved those," Cain remarked mildly. "Like to tell me why?"

"What the hell did you do to my sister?"

Cain blinked. "Gin?"

"Do I have another sister? _What did you do to her?_"

"It's none of your business."

Kichiro growled as he shot forward, shoving Cain back against the wall. "The hell it isn't! It _is_ my fucking business, damn it! Now tell me what you did to her!"

Cain stared pointedly at Kichiro's hands, still tangled in his shirt, but didn't push him back.

"Let me guess: you got all shitty because Gin dared to have a birthday party for your daughter? Was that it? So you . . . what? Yelled at her? Screamed at her? I don't give a fuck what you did, but you know, you've convinced her that whatever it was, it's entirely her fault."

A flicker of guilt registered on Cain's face before he managed to blank his expression. Kichiro shoved the tai-youkai back and let go. "It's not enough that your daughter walks on eggshells around you---afraid of upsetting the fucking master, is it? What you've done to Gin . . . Damn it!"

"Gin's fine. She's home, isn't she?"

"Fine?" he echoed incredulously. "_Fine?_ There's nothing '_fine'_ about her, you bastard!" Anger at the seeming nonchalance Cain displayed, Kichiro swung his fist again.

Cain caught it and pushed it aside. "I let you vent your frustration. Now I suggest you tell me what you're accusing me of having done."

Rounding on him in a blur of motion, Kichiro grabbed Cain's shoulder and shoved him toward the door. "Fucking move."

"And where do you think I'm going?" Cain asked acerbically.

"Not that far, I promise."

Cain shot him a glower but kept moving.

Stopping outside Gin's door, Kichiro caught Cain's arm before he could go in. "Upset her again, and I'll kill you. I won't go after my old man or my brother. I'll do it myself, and I won't give a fucking rat's ass, whether Gin or Belle will like it. Now _fix_ it before it's too late."

Cain glared at him for a long moment before cautiously pushing the door open. Stopping abruptly at the sight of the disheveled apartment, he shook his head, staring around in much the same way that Kichiro had done earlier.

Kichiro pushed past him and stalked over to the sofa, kneeling down to feel Gin's forehead with the palm of his hand. Grimacing, he sighed inwardly. It was exactly what he'd feared. Gin wasn't sick, not at all. No fever, no nothing . . . just a heartache so deep that he winced as it enveloped him, too.

Cain started to walk past him, obviously heading back to Gin's room. Kichiro's growl stopped him. Brushing aside the absolute feeling that he must protect his sister, Kichiro slowly rose to his feet and stepped back. "Where the hell are you going?"

The tai-youkai stopped and swung around. He was going to tell Kichiro to back off. His eyes lit on Gin, and he stopped cold. In a single instant, Kichiro saw everything. Eyes flaring wide as a low groan slipped out of him, Kichiro didn't miss the grimace, the sharply indrawn breath as Cain staggered toward Gin, dropped to his knees beside her. If the youkai knew how he looked as he knelt beside the girl, if he had any idea at all, just how much of his heart he wore in his expression . . . He looked absolutely broken, as though the image of her was enough to hurt him, Cain blinked quickly, cleared his throat to dispel the rising hysteria that flowed like water just under the calm façade he presented . . . There was an uncanny brightness in his gaze as he reached out with a quivering hand, he touched her cheek, winced at the pronounced hollows, the shadows under her eyes, the erratic flutter of her heart. "God, Gin . . ."

She stirred, brow furrowing as she whimpered softly. She didn't want to open her eyes, and yet she seemed to understand on some level that Cain was there beside her. Kichiro stalked back to the kitchen, grabbed a small handful of rice crackers and turned around. Cain was picking her up. She looked like a child in his arms. Restraining the desire to demand that Cain put her down, Kichiro strode back and grunted, holding his hand out as Cain settled her against his chest. Shooting Kichiro a questioning glance, he slowly held out his hand. Kichiro dropped the crackers and nodded at the untouched milk. "She hasn't kept anything down since you did . . . whatever the hell you did to her. You make sure she eats. Make sure she drinks. Don't let her do it too fast, or she'll throw it all back up again."

". . . All right," Cain agreed, glaring at Kichiro for another minute before gently jiggling his shoulder in an effort to rouse Gin.

She whined and turned her face to nuzzle against Cain's chest. He winced and shook her again. "Wake up, baby girl."

"C-Cain?" she murmured.

Kichiro leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched in silence. On the one hand, he wished that Cain would say or do something stupid. He'd love to have a good reason to tear the youkai apart. On the other, Gin was more important. She _had_ to be more important.

"W-what are you doing here?" she asked weakly.

Cain closed his eyes as he hugged her, his relief obvious. The sound of her voice soothed him, and Kichiro didn't miss the stuttered breath he released. "I came to check on you. I've . . . missed you . . ."

"I'm sorry; so sorry . . ."

"Don't be sorry, Gin. You don't have a reason to be."

"I do," she argued. "You were right. I didn't think, and I hurt you. I'm so sorry, Cain . . ."

He swallowed hard. "No, I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I wasn't even mad at you . . . I was just mad at . . . I don't know, _everything_ . . . Gin? Will you do something for me?"

She sniffled and nodded. If she realized Kichiro was there, she didn't show it. "Okay."

"I want you to eat some crackers for me."

Gin whimpered. "I can't . . . I---"

"You can," he argued gently, holding out a cracker and trying to pry her lips apart. She moaned and turned her face deeper into his shoulder. "You've got to eat . . . for me?"

She sniffled and grimaced but unburied her face long enough for him to feed her the cracker. "Take it easy on that, okay? I want you to keep it down."

Chewing slowly, Gin sighed and snuggled deeper into her blanket.

"I came by," he told her as he fed her another cracker. "I called . . ."

"I thought you were mad at me," she admitted. "I thought you hated me."

"Not possible. Me hate you? No . . . I was an ass, and I'm sorry."

"I should have realized that Isabelle died then. I should have asked or something."

He hugged her closer, rested his cheek on her head as he closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to take comfort in her proximity. "You didn't know. You couldn't have known. It's okay, Gin, Don't apologize anymore. You didn't do a damn thing. It was . . . It was me . . . just me."

Kichiro grimaced and heaved a sigh. Even if he hadn't promised that he wouldn't tell his father, what good could come of that? It was obvious to him that Gin was already in way too deep, and as much as InuYasha loved his daughter, his blustering and threats wouldn't help. Watching Cain feeding Gin the tiny crackers . . . He shook his head. Gin was one of the most stubborn people he knew. That she was allowing Cain to do that for her . . . it spoke volumes.

'_Kami, this is bad, Kich. Your father will kill us when he finds out_.'

'_Yeah_,' Kichiro agreed. '_He will_.'

'_If you were smart, you'd march right over there and tell your father what's going on. I'm willing to bet that he has a few choice things to say to Zelig-sensei_ . . .'

Kichiro winced inwardly. '_Oh, I'm sure he would_ . . .'

"_Please don't tell Papa. He'd just get mad, a-a-and he'd kill Cain, and . . . it's not his fault; really, it's not_---"

The stricken, panicked look on her face had given him pause---the main reason he couldn't tell InuYasha, after all. Foolish or not, he'd given his word, and Gin believed him, didn't she?

Stifling another sigh as he caught Cain's stare and jerked his head toward the untouched glass of milk, Cain seemed to get the message. Leaning over to retrieve the glass, he nudged his shoulder again to make Gin open her eyes. "No," she whimpered, squeezing her eyes closed, as though the simple gesture would make the drink disappear.

"Please, Gin. It'll help you."

"But---"

"Come on . . . for me?"

". . . Okay."

Cain carefully slipped the glass into her shaking hand and closed his hand over hers to steady it. She let him help her take a sip before grimacing at the tepid liquid but managing to swallow it. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"

She groaned quietly.

Cain uttered a wan chuckle. "I missed you, baby girl."

"I missed you, too. Cain? Will you stay here? Just for awhile?"

Cain's brow furrowed as he held her, gently rocking from side to side to soothe her. "Yeah," he rasped out. "Yeah, I will."

Kichiro pushed himself away from the wall, pacified in the knowledge that Cain would help Gin finish the food he'd gotten out for her. "Just the crackers and milk for now, then let her rest. I'll be by later to check on her again. If she wakes up before then, just a few crackers and more milk, but warm the milk so it doesn't upset her stomach."

Cain nodded, his arms tightening around Gin as though he were afraid that Kichiro would snatch her away from him. "All right."

Kichiro ruffled Gin's hair and narrowed his gaze on the tai-youkai. "I meant what I said. You hurt her again, and I'll fucking kill you. I'll hunt you down, and I'll kill you."

Cain didn't blink as he nodded once, adjusting Gin to make her more comfortable. "If I upset her again, I'll _let_ you kill me."

Satisfied that he'd made his point, Kichiro stuffed his hands into his pockets and strode toward the door. Pausing in the open doorway, he glanced back one last time. Cain kissed Gin's forehead and gently shook her, mumbling something before feeding her another cracker and coaxing her into drinking another swallow of the milk.

"_Please don't tell Papa_ . . ."

Kichiro sighed. '_Does she even have a clue, just what she's asking of me?_'

He'd figure that out later, he supposed as he pulled the door closed behind him. Checking his watch, he grimaced. He'd been gone well over an hour, and he'd left Belle alone. More concerned with finding Gin, he hadn't taken the time to talk to Belle before he'd left. She probably thought that he hadn't brought her along because he was angry with her. That wasn't true at all. He hadn't known what he'd find, and when the memory of Gin's drawn expression, the empty sorrow in her eyes . . . the hopelessness that had engulfed her came into focus, he grimaced.

There were some things in life that Belle didn't need to see, and he didn't have to be brilliant to know that she blamed herself for the fight between her father and Gin, even if she really didn't have a damn thing to do with it.

Of course, knowing that his sister had been naïve enough to fall in love with a man who had promised his life to another . . .

Kichiro believed in Gin's ability to make people adore her, and he knew---he had seen---that Zelig Cain wasn't able to resist her, either. . He'd seen it in the tai-youkai's gaze: he adored Gin, absolutely. He'd taken her pain into himself, had sought to shelter her against the anguish that he had caused her. Everyone's darling baby girl . . . she belonged to _him_ now, and as much as Kichiro wanted to fight the knowledge, he really, really couldn't do that. Gin needed Cain, and Cain . . . he needed her, too.

Kichiro stuffed his hands into his pockets as he trudged down the stairs.

'_Tell your father, damn it. Stop trying to be Gin's hero. She don't need a hero right now; she needs a brother. She's in over her head, and you know it. Stupid girl . . . she's far too trusting. She handed him her heart, didn't she? She did that, and now she's the one who's going to pay for it_ . . .'

But it wasn't about being a hero, was it? Far too trusting, far too naïve . . . and maybe that was all their faults. Too quick to shelter Gin, too fast to chase away anyone and anything that threatened her perfect little existence . . . Were those the things that had lured Cain to her? The innocence in her smiles, the genuine warmth in her eyes . . . The self-loathing in Cain's gaze as he stared at her; the tears in his eyes that the tai-youkai hadn't shed . . . Kichiro had seen it. He'd seen all of it, and in the end, he'd known. Only one person could save Gin now, and as much as he might like to be the one to help her, Kichiro knew deep down that it wasn't something that InuYasha or Ryomaru or even he could fix. Would there be any point to telling their father?

He sighed and dragged a tired hand over his face, trying not to think about what the future would bring.

His sister had blindly chosen her mate, and he had apparently chosen Gin, too. He could only hope that the two of them would realize what was going on before it was too late. It was all up to Gin now, wasn't it?

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Cain leaned his cheek against Gin's forehead as she slept soundly. Wincing at her depleted youki, unable to ignore the stringy, dull hair that hung in limp tendrils around her ashen face, he couldn't stand to see the pronounced hollows in her cheeks, to feel the bones in her slender hands. True enough, she'd eaten the handful of rice crackers that Kichiro had rationed out for her, and yes, she drank the rest of the milk without complaint. His instincts demanded that he wake her up, that he make her eat something more substantial. 

He sighed. Kichiro was a doctor, and while Cain didn't like him, he had to allow that as a doctor and more importantly, as Gin's brother, there was no way that he'd give advice if it weren't warranted. He hadn't noticed when Kichiro left. Actually, he hadn't noticed much of anything after he'd seen Gin, after he'd stared in shock at the vibrant girl who looked more like a shadow of herself than the real woman he knew.

'_God, Gin . . . what did you do?_'

Grimacing as the memory of hearing her retching so pathetically the night he'd been so ugly to her . . . Nerves could do that, couldn't they? An upset so powerful that Gin . . . He'd forced her to that. With his thoughtless anger, and his consuming rage, his need to lash out . . . He'd done this, and Gin was the one who suffered. She was always hungry. He liked to tease her about that, didn't he? She'd made herself sick because of him; because of his misplaced sense of righteous indignation.

'_Nearly four days_,' he thought as he tightened his hold on her. '_I left her alone that long, and the entire time, she . . . She needed me, didn't she?_'

'_Just fix it, Cain. Don't worry about that; you can't change the past. You know that better than anyone, right? Just make sure she eats . . . and maybe . . . maybe it's time_.'

'_Time?_'

'_She's close, and you trust her, and maybe you owe her. She doesn't think you're a monster. She's never believed that, has she? Maybe, if you told her, maybe she'd understand_ . . .'

Cain closed his eyes, kissed Gin's forehead as he sighed softly. He'd never told anyone, ever. He'd never told a single soul. Afraid of the truth, ashamed of his actions, he'd locked it away and refused to speak of it. Maybe Gin would listen, and maybe she would understand, and even if she didn't understand, Gin would try because she didn't know how _not_ to try . . .

She stirred slightly, her brow furrowing as she moaned. She was too tiny, too perfect, too fragile . . . The delicate beauty of the sakura blossoms that perfumed the air in the springtime, the unattainable fragrance of the whispering breeze . . . Held so close to his heart, she calmed him, soothed him, offered him a solace that he hadn't realized existed anymore.

'_Gin, I'm sorry_ . . .'

If he lost her . . .

'_Selfish bastard . . . what the hell are you thinking?_'

Cain grimaced. '_She needs me_ . . .'

'_Damn, Cain, you've really done it. She needs you? She needs you because you made her need you. You should have walked away. You should have turned around; gotten back on that plane . . . Do you have any idea what you've done?_'

'. . . _She was sick _. . .'

'_And you believe that?_'

He didn't know what to believe. Regret, recrimination . . . the things he knew best, only this time, it was Gin, and Gin . . . Gin was precious to him. '_I'll make it right, somehow . . . Gin deserves that much_.'

'_How will you do that? How can you do that?_'

He shook his head and kissed her forehead again. '_I'll find a way. I . . . I owe her_.'

'_You owe her? You owe Isabelle? You owe Bellaniece? Cain . . . You've only got one life. You want to live but you promised . . . and Gin doesn't know that, does she? Don't you think she deserves to know?_'

Cain sighed. '_As long as I don't dishonor her . . . as long as I don't take her as my mate . . . She'll be fine, right? In the end? That's how it works, isn't it?_'

'_Do you think so? Do you think you can walk away in the end, that Gin will go unscathed?_'

'_She has to. She's stronger than anyone thinks_.'

'_Cain, _look_ at her_ . . .'

'_I know, but . . . if it came to that . . . I wouldn't yell at her, and she . . . she'd have no reason to be upset_.'

'_Do you believe that?_'

He smiled sadly. '_I want to believe that_.'

'_You know, they say the biggest fool of all is the one who convinces himself that his delusions are real_.'

'_A fool or a monster? What a choice_ . . .'

His youkai sighed. '_Worry about that later, Cain. Right now, Gin needs you, and she doesn't need to see you fall apart_.'

'_Tired_,' Cain thought as he blinked. '_So damn tired_ . . .'

Yawning wide as he scooted down on the sofa, Cain closed his eyes for a moment. He hadn't lied when he'd told her before that he couldn't sleep without her. The last few nights had been fitful. Everlasting darkness that pressed in on him, that made him want to scream, offered nothing in the way of solitude. Having her near, feeling her heart beat . . . Devastating and tempering, he couldn't help himself as sleep beckoned him. Gin was safe. Gin was close, and Cain . . .

Cain was right where he needed to be.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_Interesting note: there is a new thread in the Sueric Fanfictions forum about the possibility of a Purity 5 … LOL_!

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_Wait … so would Cain be my brother-in-law or father-in-law _…?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	65. Eye of the Storm

**_Lemon Warning_**

_This is supposed to be a lemon chapter; however THIS is the 'clean' version of the chapter, for those who don't care for the lime. If you want to read the lime, it isn't posted here. according to their TOS, will not allow the posting of Adult Rated Materials, so if you want to read the lime/lemon, see MY BIO ON MY AUTHOR PAGE. There is a link to my fanfics on Media Miner, where the lemons are posted. If you have trouble, you might have to adjust the settings to see ALL rated fics, as Media Miner is set to default at PG-13_.

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**_Chapter 65_**

**_Eye of the Storm

* * *

_**

_It was dark, wasn't it? Dark and cold and frightening_ . . .

_Running through corridors that stank of stagnant water and something far, far worse, she couldn't escape from the darkness_.

_Her stuttered breathing echoed in her ears. She ran and ran and ran . . . No light, no warmth, nothing as she moved faster. Stumbling over broken stones but catching herself before she fell, a singular thought kept racing through her head_, 'If I slow down, they'll catch me . . .'

_Who was 'they'? What was 'they'? Why the sense of urgency? Something or someone was calling to her. She could hear the faint sounds of the papery whisper. _ 'Gin . . . Gin . . . Wake up . . .'

_Gin shook her head and pushed herself faster. There was something painful about waking up, wasn't there? There was something she didn't want to deal with. So much easier, to wander these corridors; to lose herself in the never ending maze. To keep running_ . . .

_A seam of light drew her forward. In the darkness, it seemed so startling. Slowing to a walk, she shuffled toward the door. The scent of decaying wood and moisture and dust . . . Reaching out with a trembling hand, Gin pushed it open and blinked_.

"_Oi, Ryo, she's catching up!" Kichiro yelled to his twin_.

"_She can't catch us! She's just a runt! The old man should have left her under Goshinboku. Survival of the fittest, right?_"

"_I'm not a runt!" Gin yelled as she chased her brothers. Yellow ribbons streaming out behind her with a streak of silvery hair, she sprinted over the forest floor. "Give back my doll, bakas!_"

_Ryomaru tossed Kichiro the doll they'd taken. Gin made a face as she ran faster_ . . .

'I was just a pup,' _she thought as she watched the scene unfold. She hadn't been able to catch the twins. In the end, she'd sat under a tree and cried until Kichiro had come back and dropped the doll beside her. He'd winced and said he was sorry. Gin had hugged him, and he'd taken her hand to lead her back home_.

_Peering back into the hallway, Gin noticed that another door was lit. Further and further into her memories, she wasn't sure why she was seeing everything. Her first pathetic dance recital and Kichiro's reluctant hug after she'd stepped off stage . . . her first day of school and Kichiro silently walking her to the classroom after she'd assured her father that she wasn't scared; not at all . . . Kichiro's community theatre shows that she never, ever missed . . . All of the memories contained Kichiro. He had been one of her heroes, hadn't he? The one she knew she could count on whenever InuYasha wasn't around _. . .

_The voice was calling out to her, the whisper growing louder more insistent. She wasn't sure who it was, what they wanted. She wasn't sure of anything at all. The voice was familiar, wasn't it? She ought to know who it was, right? The voice was welcome, comforting. Why did it also make her feel so sad_?

_She didn't want to wake up. She didn't want to remember the things that lurked behind closed doors. Something was trying to hurt her, wasn't it? Something that she didn't understand_ . . .

_Running deeper into the darkened corridor, ignoring the light that filtered from the cracks under doorways, Gin heard the approaching wail of a malignant force. So close that she could feel the moist heat of squalid breath, the demons she couldn't see_ . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro ran through the forest, tracking the familiar scent as he scowled and ran faster. 

'_I told her to stay there_,' he grumbled.

'_Of course you did, but you were gone awhile_.'

'_That didn't mean she could just take off! Sometimes I swear she's trying to test me_ . . .'

'_Give it up, Kich. You're just mad because you wanted distraction, and she's not there to do it for you_.'

He sighed and leapt into the trees. Belle was close. He could sense her, smell her. He just wanted to find her. She was upset; he could feel it in her aura. '_Blaming herself, no doubt. Damn her father_ . . .'

Dropping to the ground in front of her, Kichiro caught her by the shoulders as she stumbled forward. She gasped softly, cheeks pinking as she quickly lowered her gaze and tried to pull away. He winced as the scent of salty tears assailed him. She wasn't crying now, but her eyes were a little too bright; her nose a little too red. Why was it that two of the women that he loved best could be made to feel as though they had done something wrong when they hadn't done anything, really, at all?

"I thought I told you to stay at the house," he remarked in a quiet tone.

Belle grimaced and nodded, seeming to shrink within herself, as though she feared that he would yell at her. "I did," she said. "I thought you'd forgotten me."

"Belle . . ."

"I thought you were angry at me."

He sighed, letting his hands drop away only to drape them on his hips. "Tell me one thing?"

She shuffled her feet, the delicate white sandals sorely out of place against the decaying leaves and rich brownish-black soil. "Okay."

"Did you introduce them?"

Belle shook her head as she quickly shot him a glance before ducking her chin once more. "No . . . I think he met her after that lecture he came here to give."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "He never really said, but . . . why else would he have wanted to stay? Daddy's been alone so long, you know? It was always just Daddy and me. Suddenly he wanted to stay here, and it never made sense to me, at the time, but now . . . Do you think it's possible? Can meeting someone just one time really change your life so much?"

Kichiro smiled almost sadly, remembering that same day and another girl---a beautiful girl---who had changed another life. "Yeah, it's possible," he agreed then heaved a sigh.

"How is she? Gin, I mean?"

"I think she'll be fine. I think . . ." Trailing off as he stopped himself before he said too much, Kichiro shook his head and forced another smile as he reached for Belle's hand and turned back toward home. "Your father's with her now. It's not a big deal."

"You left Daddy with her? Really?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, I did. I'm going to run over there again, later. There're a few things I need to tell Gin. Don't worry about it."

"She was all right, wasn't she?"

The paleness of Gin's skin, the hopelessness in her gaze . . . the pitiful way she'd clung to him as she begged him not to tell InuYasha . . . "Yeah," Kichiro lied, "Gin's fine . . . just fine."

Belle grimaced. "I was worried about nothing, wasn't I? I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, I'm glad you spoke up."

"Okay . . . What aren't you telling me?"

He blinked and schooled his features. "What do you mean?"

She stopped and tugged her hand away before smiling almost sadly. "You don't think I can't sense your moods, do you?"

"I think you were right, about your father and my sister," he answered, carefully choosing his words. "I think they've chosen each other."

"Really?"

Heaving a sigh at Belle's cautiously optimistic tone, he nodded but grabbed her hand before she could run away. The dread that had surrounded her dissipated fast only to leave behind a surge of happiness, and as much as he wished he could let her hold onto that, his own lingering doubts made him speak. "Belle, it's not that easy. You know that, right? Even if your father wants to be with my sister, there's a lot of other stuff that I don't think you understand." He shook his head and glared at the forest, wishing there were a better way to explain all of this to her. There wasn't, not really, and didn't he owe Belle the truth? "Hell, I don't even really understand it. Thing is . . . I have to wonder if either of them even realize what they're doing."

"But they have to, don't they? I mean . . . look at us, right?"

"We're different," he maintained, catching her and pulling her into a hug. "We _wanted_ to find each other."

"So you're saying that Daddy and Gin . . . but that'd be bad if they don't figure it out."

"It could be. Damn it. I'm screwed, do you know that? Totally screwed. Between your father and mine . . ." He threw his hands up in a defeated gesture as he shook his head, ears flattening as he considered the ramifications of the things he knew. "I'm just completely fucked."

"Why?"

Casting her a formidable glower, Kichiro rubbed his face and snorted. "Feh! Gin made me promise not to tell the old man about what's going on. When he finds out . . ."

"But your father will be happy, won't he? I mean, if Gin's happy with Daddy, then---"

"Of course he wants her to be happy. It isn't about that. It's about me keeping this from him. Even if the old man blusters and grumbles, he wouldn't do anything really to endanger Gin, but don't think for a second that I won't be fair game. Nope, he'll kill me, dead-bang."

"I don't understand your family," Belle said slowly. "I mean, your father is a little overprotective of your sister, don't you think?"

Kichiro shrugged. "Maybe. Then again, you have to understand . . . For a long time, he thought that his worth was measured in how well he could protect those he cared about. When he met my mother, he didn't have anyone. He'd thought that his first love had betrayed him, and when the Shikon no Tama came out of Mama's body . . ." He shook his head. "He protected Mama, and he searched for the Sacred Jewel shards, and he protected his friends. Anyway, when he went through the well after Mama, the jewel was gone, and the only person he had left to protect was Mama. I suppose it was different for him, having sons. Maybe he couldn't show us the same sort of perceived vulnerability he could show Mama and Gin. It doesn't matter. Thing is, when Gin was born, she sort of became . . . She's the old man's Shikon no Tama, which would make the guys she's wanted to date like the petty youkai that came after the jewel before, and that would mean your father . . . is Naraku."

Belle rolled her eyes but giggled at Kichiro's analogy. "That has to be one of the most warped scenarios I've ever heard."

Kichiro grinned just a little. "Maybe, but that's pretty much how it is, in simplest terms."

She started to retort but seemed to remember something else Kichiro had said. Cocking her head to one side, she stared at him for a long moment before finally asking, "Why won't my father be happy with you?"

Kichiro rolled his eyes. "Well, for starters, you're his daughter. Fathers don't seem to care for their daughters' chosen mates . . . and I . . . punched him . . . a couple times . . ."

"You did?"

Kichiro wasn't sure what to make of the absolute incredulity in Belle's expression. "Yeah, I did. He had it coming."

Belle shook her head. "And you're still alive? Wow . . . that's impressive!"

Kichiro's mouth dropped open in shock as he glowered at the hanyou he was supposed to call his mate. "What the hell does that mean?"

She shrugged as she strolled closer, widening her eyes innocently as she idly traced little circles on his chest. "Well, you know . . . You're a lover, not a fighter . . . and I like you that way."

He snorted. "I'll have you know I could kick his ass if I wanted to."

"Of course you could," she cooed, her tone leaving little doubt in his mind that she was simply humoring him.

"Belle!" he sputtered indignantly. "Just because I don't normally run around beating on things doesn't mean I can't."

"But he's my father, and you wouldn't beat on my _daddy_."

Kichiro snorted.

"Besides, my father is the North American tai-youkai. That means he's tough . . . Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

He relented as Belle nuzzled his neck. "I'm not mad at you," he answered. "If you keep that up, though . . . I could _pretend_ to be . . ."

"I thought you were mad at me," she pouted between tiny, nibbling kisses. "I thought that you were going to hate me."

"Even if I were mad, I wouldn't hate you, princess," he assured her, closing his eyes as her tongue snaked out against his jugular. Letting his head fall back, submitting to her, Kichiro felt the smallest shiver run rampant down his spine. "I should . . . should take you back to the . . . house," he muttered.

Belle giggled. "Do you think someone would see us here?"

"The old man takes Mama on walks all the time," he informed her. "It could happen . . ."

"Sure, it could." She sighed and dropped her arms, stepping back with a sigh designed to let Kichiro know that she wished it were otherwise.

He caught her hand and pulled her back against him, wrapping an arm around her as he pressed his hips against hers. Maybe the distraction would help. Kami only knew he had enough to think about, and what better distraction was there than a willing woman who so loved to please him? "Then again, I'm already a dead man," he mused. "You might as well make use of me while you still have me, don't you think?"

"Out here?"

Digging into his pocket and producing a condom, he grinned wickedly. "Sure, here . . ."

Cheeks flushed, eyes bright, she giggled softly as he drew her back into his arms and kissed her.

"Do you want it, princess?"

"Always. Do you make a habit of carrying around condoms?"

"I can _make_ a habit of it," he countered.

"Oh, you should," she agreed, pinching his nipples through his shirt. He moaned and pushed her back against a tree. She lifted her leg, wrapping it around his waist, inviting him as she sank her tongue into his mouth in a slow, wet kiss. His fingers slid into her as the scent of her arousal engulfed him. Marveling at the ease with which he could turn her on, he growled as she unfastened his pants, as her kiss deepened, as her body surged and tightened over his dancing fingers.

"Fuck me," she moaned, dragging her lips away from his as she let her head fall back, as Kichiro nipped the soft curve of her neck.

"Bend over, and I will," he promised. She whimpered as he pulled his fingers out of her. Turning around and bending over while placing her hands on the tree trunk, she wiggled her ass and moaned as Kichiro tore open the condom and hurriedly rolled it on.

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

"Yeah, well, I wasn't mad at you," he assured her, kissing her quickly before taking the used condom with a heavy sigh. They weren't far from the house, thank kami . . . He might have to start carrying around something to put the used ones in, he supposed . . . "You don't have to fuck me just because you think I'm mad," he remarked.

Belle giggled and took his other hand, dragging him toward the clearing where his house stood. "You think that's really why I did that?" she countered. "It wasn't. I just love to be with you, and I love to make you happy. Can I help it, if making you happy makes me happy, too?"

"Good." He checked his watch and sighed. It was later than he thought. "Why don't you think about where you want to go tonight? I've got to check in on Gin."

Belle opened the sliding glass door and stepped inside. "I thought you said that she was okay."

He forced a smile. "She is. There're just a few things I wanted to tell her. Don't worry about it, all right?"

She didn't look like she believed him completely, but she nodded once and leaned up on her toes to kiss him. "You might want to change your pants," Belle remarked with a wink.

He chuckled when he looked down. Her fragrance was thick on him. If he didn't change, telling Cain wouldn't be a question, at all. He'd smell his daughter all over Kichiro.

For the briefest of seconds, he considered leaving the pants on. If Belle wouldn't have been furious at him for doing it, he would have given the idea more serious thought.

He sighed. He really had to talk to Gin, and he needed to do it without Cain breathing down his neck. If Gin wasn't willing to press the issue with Cain---and Kichiro had serious doubts that his sister really would do such a thing---then she needed to think about a few things, and Kichiro . . . he could only hope that it wasn't already too late. He had a feeling there were a few things that she didn't know; things that would negate the promise he'd made about not telling InuYasha . . .

* * *

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* * *

Gin stared at her hands and tried not to fidget as Kichiro paced around before her. Drawing her blanket up over her shoulders, she bit her lip as she waited for her brother to speak. He'd asked Cain to let him speak with Gin in private, and while Cain hadn't seemed like he would agree, he finally nodded and stepped outside into the hallway. 

"Gin, don't you get it? I'm worried about you."

She winced at the exasperation in his tone as he sat down beside her. "I know, but really, I'm okay."

"Okay?" he challenged. "Really. You call not eating for four days 'okay'?"

"I was sick," she maintained. "I had the flu . . ."

"Gin . . ."

"It was the _flu_," she whispered. "If anyone asks, it was the flu."

Wincing at the determination in Gin's gaze, Kichiro shook his head and grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Don't lie to yourself, okay? Do you . . . do you remember what happened to Toga?"

Her expression faltered for a moment before she could hide the upset brought on by the reminder. "This is different," she said. "Sierra is Toga's only mate---first, last . . . only."

"You can't believe you aren't in over your head, baby girl. You are. Do you have any idea what I thought when I saw you? You looked like shit, Gin, and it's only been four days . . . Have you ever felt that kind of fear?"

She smiled sadly and shook her head, eyes bright though no tears fell. "I'm not like you, Kich. I'm not like Papa or Ryo . . . Not really like Mama, either. Cain . . . He's my friend---my _best_ friend. I let him down. I was wrong."

"Gin, tell me the truth. What's going on with the two of you?"

"We're . . . just friends. That's all. Just . . . friends."

"Just friends? Hell of a friendship . . . you know, you might be able to hide this from the old man easier if you didn't reek of your 'friend'."

He didn't miss the guilty flash in her eyes as she quickly looked away. "I just want to help him," she whispered. "I just want him to be happy."

He grimaced as another woman's words echoed through his head.

"_I just love to be with you, and I love to make you happy_ . . ."

How could two completely different women be so similar in their hearts?

Kichiro's smile was sad. "Just promise me, Gin . . . Promise me that you'll be careful."

She smiled back, but her eyes were dark, full of secrets that she shouldn't have known. "I will, Kich. Of course I will . . ."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_Careful _…?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	66. Cain's Confession

**_Chapter 66_**

**_Cain's Confession

* * *

_**

Gin blinked and frowned as she tried to shake off the nagging sense of confusion that clung to her brain. Slow, sluggish, entirely lethargic, it took her a minute to figure out that she was curled up on the sofa with a thick bronze blanket of sorts that smelled entirely too familiar. Whimpering softly as her mind tried to deny what her senses told her, she couldn't seem to summon the strength to push Cain's Mokomoko-sama away.

'_Where is he? He said he'd be here when I woke up, but_ . . .'

Struggling to sit up, Gin winced as her aching body protested, and she ground her teeth together in grim determination. She needed to get up. She needed to find him . . .

"Hey, you're awake. Good," Cain said softly. Gin gasped as he scooped her up and sat on the sofa, nestling her against his shoulder as he pulled the Mokomoko-sama over her again. "I, uh, brought you this, in case you woke up before I got back."

"Where did you go?" she asked, her voice dry and cracking.

"I ran to the store. Bought a few things for you to eat. Can you try?"

Gin squeezed her eyes closed and wrinkled her nose. "I don't want anything . . . I'm not hungry."

"This is not negotiable," he countered. "I'll make you a deal: if you eat, I'll let you borrow my Mokomoko-sama for as long as you want, but you have to agree to eat."

Just the mention of food was enough to make her stomach lurch unpleasantly. Still Gin nodded. "All right."

Cain sighed and gave her a little squeeze before scooting her off his lap so he could stand up. Gin peered over the back of the sofa as he strode toward the kitchen. Frowning as she gazed around her apartment, she pulled the fluffy 'blanket' closer and shook her head. "Cain? Did you clean?"

He seemed surprised by her question. Looking around quickly as his cheeks reddened, he shrugged and forced a small smile. "Yeah, I did."

She winced as her ears flattened, and she sank down on the couch again. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he told her as he came back to her and held out a mug. "It's not fancy, but it seemed safer," he explained as he lifted the spoon with thick, creamy golden broth.

Unable to contain her groan when the smell of the soup infiltrated her senses, Gin leaned away. "What is that?"

Cain held it out to her so that she could get a better look. "Chicken broth. Best thing for weakened stomachs."

She let him feed her, and swallowed hard. It wasn't nearly as bad as it looked. It wasn't really bad at all. Too bad the very smell of food made her stomach want to turn inside out. If it weren't for Cain's close scrutiny, Gin might have been tempted completely to ignore it. "Where'd you get that?" she asked before he could stuff her mouth again.

"I know a few people at Yokota Air Force Base. They hooked me up."

"For me?"

He shrugged and tried to smile. It looked more like a grimace. "I'm sorry, Gin. I was an ass, and---"

"No, you were right. I should have known. I should have asked, and you had every right to be mad at me. I was stupid and thoughtless, and I---"

"You're not stupid _or_ thoughtless," he grumbled. "Listen . . . I was mad, and I took it out on you, but you have to know I . . . I wasn't mad at you. I don't think I _can_ be mad at you."

". . . Really?"

He nodded. "Absolutely."

She started to smile but faltered. Cain looked like he had a suspicion about what she was thinking. "I'm still sorry."

He looked tired---really tired, but he shrugged and tapped his fingertips together. "So am I . . . I came over to tell you that right after you'd left. I guess . . . I was ashamed of the things I'd said. I didn't mean them; _any_ of them."

She let him feed her a few more spoonfuls of the broth before she turned her face to the side as her stomach lurched again. "I can feed myself," she informed him, arching an eyebrow to emphasize her claim.

"I know you can," he agreed, allowing her a small smile that was a little bashful and entirely endearing. "I want to do this. Just let me?"

She nodded slowly but caught his wrist before he could feed her the next spoonful. He didn't want to talk about it, certainly, but she needed to say it. "I know what you said, but I can't help it. I can't believe you killed her, you know?"

Cain stopped abruptly, spoon lingering in mid-air in front of her face. With a defeated sigh, he dropped the spoon back into the mug and set it on the table before retrieving the half-full glass of milk and carefully putting it in her hand. "I was going to wait till you were a little stronger," he explained. "Are you tired? If you are, it's okay. It can wait."

Gin stared into the glass, absently noting how her hand trembled just a little, how the surface of the milk wobbled. "I'm all right."

He drew a deep breath, hand lingering over the cigarettes in his pocket. Deciding against it, he let his hand fall away as he sat back and seemed to be trying to figure out where to initiate his tale. "You deserve to know what happened," he began softly, glowering at the coffee table, unable to meet her gaze. "I've never told anyone. Maybe I thought that if I did, everyone would think I was a monster, too, and Bellaniece . . . She deserved better."

"You don't have to tell me," Gin cut in with a shake of her head.

"I know," he answered with a sad little smile. "Maybe I just need to tell someone."

Gin swallowed some milk and waited. Cain rubbed his face wearily and drew another deep breath. "I have no idea where to start."

"The beginning?" she suggested.

Cain nodded, leaning forward, propping his elbow on his knee as he tapped his claw against his lips. "The beginning . . . ? Okay . . . The beginning . . ." The pensive look on his face gave way to a wistful sort of ambivalence. Having come to terms with the words that had eluded him, he closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "About twenty years ago, I lived outside Miami. I've always been kind of reclusive, I guess. The house was an old Spanish style place on the beach. I owned most of the land around it, so it was pretty private, quiet . . ." He shook himself and sighed. "Anyway, I didn't go into the city much. It was close to three hours away by car, and it was always too crowded and stuff. I hated it." Pausing, he glanced at her and frowned. "Drink your milk, okay?"

Gin lifted the glass to her lips once more and choked down another swallow of the tepid liquid.

"Sesshoumaru and Kagura came to visit. I'm not sure how they managed, but they talked me into going into the city with them to see a musical. _Les Miserables_. I can remember everything about it: the way the crowd smelled . . . the dim lights that lined the aisles . . . the excitement of the people in attendance . . . The show was sold out, and the program touted the lead actress as one of Broadway's fastest rising stars."

"Isabelle," Gin murmured.

Cain nodded. "Isabelle."

"So that's where you met her?"

"After the performance, yes. Sesshoumaru used his influence to arrange a meeting for me, and I . . ." He shook his head and sighed. "She thought I was charming---that was her word: charming . . . I was stammering and staring, and making a fool of myself . . . I don't know . . . There was just something about her . . . she drew me to her. I don't know what you'd call it. Lust? Desire? Love at first sight? I had to have her. I was . . . _compelled_ . . . to be with her."

"I see . . ."

He grimaced. "Do you? Do you really? Because I still don't. It's something I never understood. At the time, I thought it was my youkai's way of telling me . . . but I don't think it was. I just think I _wanted_ it to be . . ."

"Tell me more about her?" Gin coaxed.

Cain seemed surprised by her interest, but he nodded. "Isabelle . . . her presence could . . . light up a room, as stupid and cliché as that sounds. She had a smile that could make you forget that there were bad things in the world . . ."

"She sounds like she was amazing," Gin murmured, blinking quickly as her vision blurred.

"She was," he agreed. "She . . . was."

He was struggling; Gin knew he was. Caught between the things that he was trying to explain and the desire not to hurt her, she could sense his reluctance. "It's okay, Cain," she assured him, trying to ignore the ache in her chest, the feelings that she just wasn't good enough, the knowledge that she really didn't understand anything at all. "You loved her, right?"

He sighed. "I guess I did," he said softly. "I _think_ I did . . . and she loved me in her own way. Thing is, I made a lot of mistakes with her. I didn't stop to explain everything. I didn't tell her about youkai, and I didn't tell her that being with me meant forever. I never told her any of it, and as tai-youkai, I suppose that was unforgivable. When things changed . . . It was my fault, you see? I hadn't told her. I didn't let her choose."

"What do you mean? You didn't tell her about anything?"

He winced and shook his head. "No . . . That was the first of my mistakes. By the time I got around to telling her, we were already mated. I think . . . I think I first told her on our wedding night." He laughed tersely, and the sound of it made Gin wince. "We were married in a stupid, rushed service at a little church outside New Orleans---we were on a road trip . . . and we were drunk. Seemed like a good idea. I mean, we were mated by then . . ."

"Cain . . ."

He shrugged. "It's okay, Gin. It's okay." He trailed off for a moment, as though he had to figure out where he was in his story. With another soft sigh, he stared off into a place that Gin couldn't see, struggled to give voice to the things that he still didn't understand. "I don't think Isabelle ever really grasped what it meant to be youkai. I told her, of course. I explained it all later---marking, our prolonged life spans . . . my need to have an heir---a son. I asked her to come live with me---maybe demanded, really. I thought it was what she wanted, and she tried. I know she tried. She left her acting career behind. She tried to fit into my life, such as it was. She tried to hide her unhappiness, and it worked for awhile."

It struck Gin, just how confused Cain seemed. Maybe he didn't really understand everything that had happened. Or had he simply been caught up in something that didn't make sense at all? She grimaced. The story he was trying to tell her . . . did she really want to hear it?

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sometimes I'd catch her staring out the windows or daydreaming when she thought I wasn't looking, and I . . . ignored that, too. When I pressed her about letting me mark her, she always put me off. The last time I bugged her about it, she said that an actress couldn't live forever. It'd be impossible to explain, just why she didn't age, and an actress couldn't start over again, if she was already wearing a famous face. I laughed at her, and I told her that she wasn't an actress anymore. It wasn't until later that I figured out that she'd never stopped being an actress. It's just that the role she was playing had changed."

"Cain . . ."

"Just let me say this, Gin. If I don't say it now, I never will. You deserve to know."

She swallowed the last of her milk and set the glass on the table with a sigh of relief. "Okay."

He reached out, brushed his knuckles over her cheek. The sadness, the uncertainty in his expression made her wince as his hand fell away once more. "Isabelle finally came to me, told me she wanted to leave. She missed Broadway; she missed the things she knew, the life she'd left behind. Strangest thing, really . . . I wasn't surprised. I wasn't angry; I wasn't sad---I wasn't _happy_. I really wasn't anything at all. Before I answered her, she told me that in exchange for her freedom, she'd agree to have a baby---the heir I needed. I was selfish, and I was stupid, and like a bastard, I . . . I accepted what she offered."

"Bellaniece."

Cain nodded, eyes sad despite the bittersweet smile that touched his lips. "Bellaniece."

"Oh . . ."

He shook his head like he was trying to clear his thoughts or find some semblance of reason. "I had sex with her that night. That's all it was: a perfunctory act. No affection, no tenderness . . . the sole purpose was to create a child, and we both knew it. Our relationship had changed. All the passion that we'd shared before was gone. In the months that followed, we talked more than we ever had. We developed a strange sort of friendship. You know, it was weird. I should have been upset, right? I mean, a youkai dies when separated from his mate, but somehow . . . I don't know . . . I was more comfortable with her, and I knew she was leaving as soon as the baby was born. The only thing that bothered me was that I felt like a failure, but when I told her that I hoped she'd be happy after she left, I meant it."

"What do you mean?" Gin asked softly, brow furrowing as she struggled to comprehend his words.

Cain chuckled sadly. "I think I felt closer to her during her months of pregnancy than I ever had before. I didn't touch her. She didn't want that, but she seemed happier than she had been. Maybe it was the knowledge that she'd be free soon enough. I don't know. I thought . . ." He trailed off and shook his head. "Ah, maybe I didn't think at all."

Gin wanted to hug him, wanted to tell him that he really wasn't as alone as he looked like he felt. Something in his gaze stopped her. Deeper, darker, hiding secrets that he didn't seem to want to let go, his eyes glowed in the waning light of the early evening. Staring back over years that she couldn't see, he was lost in a flood of memories.

"We got hit by a hurricane when Isabelle was around thirty-six weeks into her pregnancy. I didn't think much of it. It was too early. The first day, she and I argued because she wanted to go walking in the rain. It was the storm before the hurricane; an eerie kind of quiet rain. I didn't want her to go. The hurricane could've hit any time. Hurricanes are like that, you know? They move fast, and gods and men and youkai . . . we can't move faster than that. Isabelle laughed at me, told me I was being ridiculous. Her eyes were so bright, her cheeks were all rosy, and . . . and I gave in. She promised she wouldn't go far, and told me that she wanted to go alone. I watched from the window, and I remember that she seemed fine . . . She seemed fine."

"Did she . . .? Did you . . .?"

"She came home soaked through. I told her she looked like a drowned cat. She was happy---really happy. I built her a fire as the hurricane hit, and I growled at her for taking such a stupid risk. I remember she laughed at me. She told me that a miss was as good as a mile . . . I never understood that phrase." He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, cheeks pinking at whatever memory he was trying to lend voice. Finally he sighed again. "I don't remember what happened next. I don't remember why or how . . . She loved storms. They excited her, I suppose. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor with her." He barked out an incredulous laugh, a terse gasp of hollow sound. "It was the best sex we'd ever had. That's ironic, considering . . ."

"Oh, kami . . . Cain . . ."

"It could have been the storm, right? The hurricane? It could have sent her into labor somehow . . . I don't think it was. It was me. I wasn't careful with her. It didn't matter that she was huge with my pup. I didn't think about her being thirty-six weeks pregnant. She stripped off her clothes and knelt on the floor. She asked me to fuck her, and I did. I didn't think twice. I didn't think at _all_. Just . . . rough, like a couple of animals . . . just an act that we both . . . that _I_ wanted, and that she . . ."

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, pain delineating his features. Gin started to reach out for him but stopped. It wasn't her story to tell, and Cain didn't seem to want to be comforted; not yet. "We didn't stop until she was exhausted. Then I put her to bed and closed myself in my studio, and I lost track of time."

He fumbled in his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. Gin didn't say anything. His hands were shaking, his jaw twitching . . . If he needed the cigarette to calm himself, she wasn't about to argue it with him.

"Sometimes when I'm working, I get into this . . . trance. I'll work for hours or days. I don't pay much attention, I guess. I don't know how long I worked that time---worked on that sculpture I'll probably never finish. When I finally left my studio, the electricity was out. The air in the house was stagnant and clammy, and . . ."

Squeezing his eyes closed, he lifted the trembling cigarette to his lips, taking his time as he slowly exhaled. He stared at the smoke as the tendrils rose in the air, and the raw pain in his expression drew a whine from Gin. "I could smell it---smell _her_---everywhere, but it wasn't the same . . . it was . . . It was . . ."

Scooting toward him to put her hand on his, Gin felt the quaking in his limbs subsiding. Casting her an oddly grateful glance, he drew a deep breath and licked his lips. "I went to her room---she'd stopped sharing mine when she said she wanted to leave---but she wasn't there. Her scent was so strong, so invasive, that I had trouble finding her. I called out her name as I ran through the mansion. I found her in the cellar. I don't know why she was down there. I didn't think to ask. She was soaked with sweat, and her water had broken. I think I told her I'd call an ambulance. The roads were all flooded; no one had electricity. The hospital was full, they said; full of fools who hadn't taken the warnings to get out seriously enough. I told Isabelle what they'd said. She smiled and told me that women had babies every day. '_It isn't a big deal, Cain_ . . .' That's what she said, and I . . . I believed her."

Pulling away as he stood up and paced the floor, strode over to the sink to run the cigarette butt under water before tossing it into the garbage. Pausing only long enough to light another one, he continued prowling, his movements stilted, bringing to mind a caged beast longing to be set free.

"She said she'd been in labor since she woke up. She said I was in my studio for a whole day. She didn't want to disturb me, she said. I carried her upstairs---the cellar was flooding---and I did everything I could to make sure she was comfortable. I sat with her all night, telling her that it was all going to be all right. Her pains got worse and worse, and I . . . I couldn't do anything. She was exhausted, sleeping between contractions; screaming out loud when the pains were too much . . . I went outside to see if the hurricane had let up. It was one of the longest hurricanes on record in that area . . . It was still going strong. Two whole days before the winds died down, but by noon, it had been nearly forty-eight hours, and there was nothing but water as far as I could see."

He stopped suddenly, waving his hand at the mug on the table. Gin didn't argue with that, either, as she retrieved the mug and choked down a couple spoonfuls. Apparently satisfied that she would keep eating, Cain sighed and took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing.

"By the time the hurricane had blown itself out, Isabelle was in serious trouble. I tried to talk her into letting me take her somewhere---anywhere to find help. She'd been pushing forever by then. The baby wouldn't come. She looked at me, and she smiled, and I _knew_, but I . . . I insisted that she'd be okay. I wanted it to believe it, but I could smell it, and you don't know what it's like, Gin. God, you don't _want_ to know what it's like . . . The smell of death . . . It just chokes you. I-i-it claws at you, and tears at you, and it stifles you so that you can't even breathe . . ."

"Cain," she murmured, making not move to staunch the tears that coursed down her cheeks. His pain had become her own, and like a macabre fairy tale, it didn't matter that she could piece together the rest of the story. Because he needed to say it, because he needed to give voice to the ghosts that haunted him . . . She would listen, even if it broke her heart.

"She could barely keep her eyes open. Pale, sickly, calm . . . It was in her eyes. Isabelle knew, and I . . . I knew it, too, but I kept lying. I kept telling her that she'd be fine, that she . . . she could still be a Broadway star---the biggest one, ever. I guess I was babbling. I don't remember half the things I said. She pressed her fingers to my lips, and she asked me . . ."

He drew a stuttering breath as his gaze brightened though he didn't shed a single tear. "'Save the baby,' she told me. 'You _ne-need_ this baby; your heir,' she said . . ." He shook his head, flexed his claws, looked like he wanted to shred something to alleviate the gripping swell of sorrow that Gin could feel. "How could she . . .? Why would she . . .? Do you _understand_ what she asked me to do?"

"I'm so sorry," Gin whispered, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "Kami, I'm sorry . . ."

"It was the hardest and yet the simplest choice I ever made. I was going to lose Isabelle. I couldn't lose the pup, too . . . So . . . I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the sharpest knife out of the block, and I went back to her, but I . . . As hard as I tried to convince myself, I knew. The knife . . . I couldn't . . . it wasn't . . . I wouldn't be able to _feel_ the pup. I wouldn't know how deep to cut, I . . ."

He trailed off, pushing his hands through his bangs before smashing his trembling hands over his face. "She said she wanted to hold the baby just once, and she . . . she asked if I cared . . . She wanted to name it. I think I nodded as I held my index finger above her belly. I can hear her scream in my head; the scream as I cut her open, and I reached into Isabelle's body, and I pulled out this . . . perfect little girl. I put her in her mother's arms, and Isabelle . . . she smiled. She gave her the name 'Bellaniece', and she said . . . She said Bellaniece would be her star."

Gin forced herself off the sofa, stumbled around the table to Cain's side. There was no hesitation in her as she wrapped her arms around him. For a moment, he resisted, arms crossed over his chest with his chin lowered and his entire body quaking, Cain made a choking sound, as though he wanted to cry but couldn't. Gin pressed herself closer, trying to tell him without words, that she was there, and that she wouldn't leave him. She gasped as Cain dropped to his knees, throwing his arms around her and hugging her fiercely, and she knew that he was afraid to let go.

"I promised her, Gin . . . Right after she died, I promised . . . It was my fault, you see? I'm the one who should have died. Isabelle . . . I promised her I'd follow her because I . . . I couldn't save her."

"That's not true," Gin whispered, cupping Cain's face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. "It's not true at all. When you saved Bellaniece . . . Don't you see? When you saved your daughter, you saved some of Isabelle, too."

He looked surprised, as though he'd never thought of that before. With a grimace, he shook his head, his sapphire eyes glowing with emotion. His pain was a palpable thing and yet there was something else underneath the sadness, the sorrow: a fragile hint of cautious hope---a stuttering flicker of something she couldn't let herself believe. Cain had lost so much---too much, and maybe Gin had been foolish, after all. She wasn't a god; she wasn't a martyr. She was just a silly little girl who hadn't really understood a single thing.

She'd wanted to fix him, hadn't she? She'd wanted to take him in and find what was broken inside him, and she'd wanted to fix it, but maybe . . . Maybe there were things that she just couldn't fix, and maybe . . .

Maybe Cain was the one who had to want that, too.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_Yokota Air Force Base is located outside Tokyo … it is the closest military installment to the capitol of Japan_.

**_Quick note_**:

_How has been assumed that I have ever felt that Isabelle was 'bad' or 'evil'? I read back through what I've written, and I don't think there has ever been enough stated about Isabelle for that inference to be accurate. What is written there, is Cain's own perception of things, and no, we can't get Isabelle's point of view. Cain's never thought Isabelle was evil. He is being realistic, and there were things that weren't right, but then, the point here is that Cain was the one who realized he'd made many mistakes. Do I think Isabelle is 'bad' and that Gin is a 'saint'? Nope. I hope this chapter better explains things that have only been brushed over before. The flashbacks before weren't meant to give a full picture of the Cain/Isabelle dynamic. I hope it is clearer now_.

_**Boards**: http(colon-slash-slash)suericfanfics(dot)forumsplace(dot)com_ …

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**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_I'm sorry, Cain _…

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_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	67. Reprieve

**_Lemon warning_**

_This is supposed to be a lime chapter; however THIS is the 'clean' version of the chapter, for those who don't care for the lime. If you want to read the lime, it isn't posted here. according to their TOS, will not allow the posting of Adult Content Materials, so if you want to read the lime/lemon, see MY BIO ON MY AUTHOR PAGE. There is a link to my fanfics on Media Miner, where the lemons are posted. If you have trouble, you might have to adjust the settings to see ALL rated fics, as Media Miner is set to default at PG-13_.

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**_Chapter 67_**

**_Reprieve

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_**

'_I really didn't understand anything at all, did I?_'

'_Don't be so hard on yourself, doll_.'

Gin sighed and blinked as she stared into the darkest recesses of her bedroom. Pervasive stillness, fragile calm drew a resonance from her heart that ebbed and flowed in the night. The sound of Cain's even breathing was enough to sooth her even as the deeper knowledge that he didn't belong here, didn't belong with her dug at her soul with vindictive force.

Maybe it was a harsh assessment. Then again, she couldn't help but feel a little stupid, after all. She'd believed that she could make a difference. She hadn't realized how much guilt one person could harbor. She hadn't thought that one man could carry so much of a burden alone for so long.

'_What would it be like, to be loved as much as Cain loved Isabelle?_'

The pain in his voice had been too great. The confusion that still lingered in the depths of his gaze had been too fresh. Had reliving the past really helped him? Had he suppressed it for so long that it came as second nature?

But maybe it had helped him . . . She couldn't really put her finger on it, but there was something a little less guarded about him, a certain air of vulnerability that he didn't mind showing her.

His arms tightened around her---he hadn't let her go since he'd come back other than when he had to get something for her to eat. There hadn't even been a question. Cain had put her to bed, opened her window, and said he was going to check on Belle. He was back moments later. Belle was already in bed, and Cain had stretched out beside Gin, pulling her securely against his chest before he dozed off to sleep.

She wished he'd stop saying he was sorry. If he'd said it once, he'd said it a hundred times: telling her that he was sorry for yelling at her, for making her think, even for a second, that anything was her fault.

Gin knew better.

She hadn't thought about it at all, really. At the time, Kichiro had been so adamant that it be kept a secret from Belle that Gin had agreed. She hadn't stopped to think about Cain's reasons or about why Cain did things the way he did. So caught up in the idea of making sure that Belle had a great birthday---one she'd always remember---Gin had agreed . . .

"_I promised her, Gin . . . Right after she died, I promised . . . It was my fault, you see? I'm the one who should have died. Isabelle . . . I promised her I'd follow her because I . . . I couldn't save her_ . . ."

Pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes, Gin refused to let herself cry. '_Oh, Cain . . . but don't you see? You did save a part of her, didn't you? You really did_ . . .'

"_Zelig will live, and Zelig will die, and all that will be said for him is that he held his damnable honor in the highest of regard, no?_"

'_That's what L'amont-san meant, wasn't it? Cain's promise . . . He'll keep it because he made it so long ago . . . because he thinks he still owes Isabelle_ . . .'

Damnable honor . . . promises made . . . Where did any of that leave Gin? Did it leave her anything at all? Was there something that she just couldn't see, some way to make him wish for the things that she did?

Maybe there wasn't really a way. Maybe there never had been.

"_I don't understand why she hated me_."

"_She didn't hate you. She just . . . I don't think anyone could ever really hate you_."

Hadn't he looked sad when he'd said that? Hadn't he looked as confused as she was? It wasn't the idea that some strange woman had deliberately tried to hurt Gin. There was something else about Cain's words, like he couldn't understand the reasons he would feel like he did at the time.

'_What'll you do, Gin? What will you say to him?_'

She shook her head. '_His confession . . . it changes everything, doesn't it? How can I fight against something that he views as being inevitable? How can I compete with that?_'

'_Is it a competition to you? Is Cain the prize? Come on, doll, you know yourself better than that_.'

She grimaced. Yeah, she knew herself better than that. She hadn't thought much about it, when Cain came into her life. Compelled to be near him, drawn to him time and again, and she hadn't understood; no, she hadn't . . .

"_There was just something about her . . . she drew me to her. I don't know what you'd call it. Lust? Desire? Love at first sight? I had to have her. I was . . . _compelled_ . . . to be with her_."

A sad little smile touched her lips. That was how she had felt about him, in the beginning . . .

"_I was selfish, and I was stupid, and like a bastard, I . . . I accepted what she offered_."

Wincing at the accuracy of Cain's words, would he ever know, really? She prayed he wouldn't. She just couldn't tell him . . .

"_It just chokes you. I-i-it claws at you, and tears at you, and it stifles you so that you can't even breathe_ . . ."

She could understand that feeling. She knew it a little too well.

'_He's my mate_,' her mind whispered.

'. . . _Yes, he is_.'

'_What . . . what have I done?_'

Her youkai sighed---a soft, tired sound. '_You did what you always do, Gin . . . You don't know how to do things in half-measures. You don't know how to separate yourself from someone you care about, and_ . . .'

She drew a deep breath, careful not to disturb Cain, repressing the desire to scream, to vent her feelings that wouldn't change anything in the end. '_But what do I do?_'

'_That's simple, isn't it? You smile, Gin. You smile, and you laugh, and you convince him that you're fine---that you'll _be_ fine---because he's lived with enough guilt to last him a lifetime or more already. You'll be his baby girl because he needs you, and . . . and you make sure you make him smile, too_.'

She closed her eyes for a moment, nodding slowly as she swallowed the rising lump in her throat. '_Because I . . . I love him_ . . .'

'_Take what we can get, Gin, just don't ask him for things he can't give. Take what we can get_ . . .'

Gin didn't need to hear the last of her youkai's statement. A strange sense of finality seeped over her, and she nodded.

'_Take what I can get . . . because in the end, I won't have anything at all_ . . .'

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Belle smiled as Kichiro pulled her close, as the reverberation of the music. The lazy beat suited her. Kichiro held onto her hips, pressed his against hers as he slowly leaned down to brush his lips across hers. "Why, Dr. Izayoi . . . we're in public," she reminded him.

"It's dark in here," he replied, swaying her gently as he nuzzled her neck.

She closed her eyes and giggled. "Oh? So that makes it okay?"

His hand dropped to her thigh, caught the hem of her skirt and pushed it up. Claws trailing over bare thighs, Belle clung to Kichiro as he chuckled in her ear. "Have I told you how hella sexy you are, Belle-chan?"

She shook her head---at least, she thought she had. The red haze that enveloped her mind made it difficult to comprehend much of anything other than the feel of his teasing perusal.

He chuckled again. "Do you want me to tell you?"

She nodded.

Hand squeezing her thigh . . . "From the moment I first saw you, I thought you were the hottest woman I'd ever seen."

Eyes closed as his fangs grazed over the soft flesh of her throat. "You . . . did?"

Kneading her side, caressing her bottom as he ground his hips against hers . . . "Absolutely . . . Your lips . . . your neck . . . your hands . . . the girls . . . all hot as hell . . ."

"Mmm?"

Deliberately running his hand down her leg, he caught her knee and pulled it up to his waist as he rubbed against her, as she felt herself melting. The chain reaction of her body to his made her shiver, and Kichiro laughed in an entirely proud way as he nipped her neck, as he lowered his face to blaze a trail from deep between her breasts back to her throat once more.

"Kichiro," she breathed, stubbornly hanging onto what was left of her sense of reason. "We're in public . . ."

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He held onto her for what seemed like a very long time. Well after her heart had slowed and calmed, as she leaned against him with a secretive smile toying with her lips. She felt him kiss her forehead but he didn't seem to be in a hurry to relinquish his hold on her, either.

"I suppose I should be shocked that I let you do that to me," he remarked mildly, rubbing her shoulder when she giggled.

"What do you mean, you let me . . . ? Right . . ."

"I was innocent," he complained without rancor. "You're the one who couldn't control her urges."

Belle rolled her eyes but didn't move away. "You're such a dog."

"Does that make you my bitch?"

Belle snorted and finally pushed herself up. "Only when you bend me over."

He groaned. "Damn . . ."

"You know, as much as I enjoy dancing . . . I think I'd like to go home now . . ."

"Home?" he echoed, his expression dubious at best as Belle moved off him so he could put himself to rights.

"Yes, home . . . the home we'll be sharing when we're mates . . ."

He stopped for a moment before making a face at the used condom and taking the napkin Belle extended to him. "Oh, that one . . . we could do that."

She giggled and stood up, swaying precariously on her feet. Kichiro caught her elbow and kissed her cheek. "Let me get rid of this, and we'll see what we can do about taking the princess home."

Belle watched him stride off toward the bathroom and sighed happily.

'_You realize he's completely perverting you_ . . .'

Rolling her eyes at her prudish youkai, she giggled again. '_Don't be silly . . . there's nothing wrong with the things we do . . . We both enjoy it, and we're going to be together, anyway, so what's the problem?_'

'_I'll tell you what the problem is, Belle! You're stringing him along, whether you mean to or not! By not telling your father, you're making Kichiro take second place, and don't think he doesn't know that. He's bent over backward for you. Don't you think the least you could do is tell your father that you've found your mate?_'

'_Kichiro knows he isn't second to anyone_,' she argued.

'_Are you sure he knows that? Haven't you ever wondered why he doesn't press the issue when you say you can't tell your father yet?_'

'_Kichiro knows that it isn't that simple. He understands how I feel about Daddy, and_---'

'_And you've all but said that your father comes first. Do you think Kichiro would really risk that? He'd rather be in your life somehow than alienate you by making you choose. Stop being a child, Belle. Think about someone's feelings other than your own, will you?_'

"You okay?"

Belle started and blinked as she forced a smile and met Kichiro's gaze. She hadn't heard him return. "I'm fine," she assured him.

He didn't believe her. She could see it in his eyes. He also didn't press her, and she grimaced. Her youkai's words were still too loud in her ears, too prevalent. Letting him take her by the elbow to lead her out of the crowded club, he didn't try to speak until they were outside. "Stay here while I hail a taxi."

"Kichiro?" she blurted, catching his hand. "Can we . . . I mean, would you mind if we walked?"

He shrugged and grinned, taking her hand as they started toward home. "You going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I was thinking . . . You're sure, right? About my father and your sister?"

Kichiro snorted. "I don't want to talk about Gin and your father . . ."

"If you're sure then maybe . . . maybe it'd be easier for me to tell Daddy about us. He wouldn't be alone, right? And he might . . . want to stick around? For Gin, I mean?"

Kichiro stopped and shot Belle an apprehensive glance. "Don't rush it for me."

She shook her head. "But I thought---"

He sighed. "Listen, princess: yes I want to be with you, and yes, I want you to tell your father, but . . . I know it's hard for you. I'd do it if I didn't think you'd be furious. Anyway, you're worth waiting for."

"You don't understand. I _want_ to tell him. I want to be with you. I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up with you in the morning . . ."

He pushed her hair out of her face and ran his thumb along her cheek. "That'll be nice."

"Do you think . . . Do you think Daddy wants that? To be with Gin like that?"

A shadow passed over Kichiro's expression, a foreboding cloud that he tried to hide. "I don't know. I hope so, for Gin's sake."

"Daddy wouldn't hurt her," Belle assured him.

Kichiro tried to smile. "I hope you're right."

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Cain balanced the tray on his hip as he pushed Gin's bedroom door open and stepped inside. True, it wasn't fancy or anything, but he had a feeling that Gin would be willing to eat the quick breakfast he'd prepared. After returning to his apartment to make sure that Belle didn't miss him, he'd taken a shower only to find a hurriedly scrawled note from his daughter on the counter: '_Went shopping with Dr. Izayoi. Be home later. Love, B_.'

Brushing off the suspicion that maybe his daughter was spending a little too much time with Dr. Izayoi, Cain had slapped together a couple sandwiches in hopes of coaxing Gin to eat, and he'd headed right back over to the young woman's apartment.

"Come on, sleepyhead. I made breakfast for you."

Gin groaned and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow.

Cain sighed and shook his head, setting the tray on the nightstand before gently tugging the pillow away from the girl. "Not hungry," she mumbled, burying her face in her folded arms.

"Not buying," he countered, picking her up and sitting down with her tucked between his raised knees. "Don't make me feed you."

"Later," she grouched.

"Wow, you woke up grumpy," he remarked. "All right, if you say so. I'll just eat the peanut butter sandwiches, myself."

Gin's ears twitched, and she stopped trying to hide her face. "Peanut butter?"

Cain leaned over and grabbed a sandwich. "That's what I said, baby girl. Too bad you don't want any."

Gin wrinkled her nose and peeked up at him as he bit into the sandwich. "I . . . I could eat a little bit . . ."

"Could you? Because, you know, I wouldn't want to make you eat, and you did say you weren't hungry . . ."

She shrugged. "A couple bites would be okay . . ."

Cain nodded as he retrieved another sandwich and slipped it into her hand. "All right, I'll tell you what: eat what you can, and I'll eat the rest."

"Or," she suggested, holding the sandwich in both hands. "I could eat what I can, and you could wrap the rest of it up for me to eat later."

He chuckled. "I could do that."

She bit into the sandwich.

They ate in silence for awhile. Gin must have been hungrier than she had let on because she finished hers and was busy eyeing Cain's. Making a show of rolling his eyes, he held out the last quarter of his sandwich. She took it and ate it, too, while Cain reached over to get the glass of milk for her. "Okay, sandwich-swiper, drink this."

Gin made a face. "That's milk," she complained.

"Yeah, so it is."

She shook her head. "Milk's for pups."

"And for baby girls who don't eat for four days."

"I tried to," she grumbled but took the milk and sipped.

He sighed. "Gin . . . why didn't you eat?"

"I told you," she maintained slowly. "I didn't feel so good. It must have been the flu."

Cain grimaced. Gin blinked innocently at him as she lifted the glass to her lips again. Her tone had been convincing enough. Had he been talking to her over the telephone, he might have believed her. The flicker of guilt in her gaze, though . . . He hadn't missed that, and he slowly shook his head. "You're getting better about lying," he told her sadly. "I almost believed you."

She swallowed the last of the sandwich and drank the rest of her milk. "I'm fine. I just felt sick, is all. It isn't a big deal, Cain."

Blinking in surprise as he stared at the girl who was studiously avoiding his gaze, he couldn't help the surge of panic that rolled through his gut, couldn't help but hear the other voice that had said the same damn thing . . .

"_It isn't a big deal, Cain_ . . ."

He winced inwardly and looked away before Gin realized just what she'd said.

"_It isn't a big deal_ . . ."

Wasn't it? The lies . . . the sneaking around . . . the hiding?

"_It isn't a big deal_ . . ."

The sadness on Gin's face when he tried to tell her the truth that had been his prison for so long . . .

"_It isn't a big deal_ . . ."

So why did he think that it was?

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**_A/N_**:

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**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Kichiro's so bad_!

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_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	68. The Real Thing

**_Chapter 68_**

**_The Real Thing

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_**

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"Be patient, will you?"

"I smell flowers."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do."

"I feel sunshine . . ."

"Uh huh."

"I hear birds . . ."

"Yep."

"Cain?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I open my eyes _now?_"

"You just asked me that, and I just said no. We're almost there, I promise."

Her answer was a long-suffering sigh as she let her chin drop on Cain's shoulder. It had been faster, to carry her piggy-back, but Cain had realized long ago that having Gin on his back like this was a really bad idea. Holding her this way brought her too close for comfort. Feeling her body pressed against his, the beating of her heart permeating his back . . . She was too welcome, too inviting _nice_ . . . If he hadn't been desperate, it never would have come to this . . .

'_Remind me again: why are we doing this?_'

Cain made a face as he sprinted over the open field toward the hill in the middle---their destination. '_Because I have to fix it_.'

'_Fix it? Pfft! You shouldn't have broke it, in the first place_.'

'_I know; I know . . . I can't do anything about that now, can I?_'

There was something that was still bothering Gin, and he knew it. In the week since he'd told her everything, things had gone back to normal, or so he had thought. Gin smiled, teased, but there was something else, too. The first night, he hadn't thought about it. Gathering her close, he could feel her slight resistance give way, and he'd held her as he slept. That hadn't been the problem. The nights after that, though, were strange. She'd be fine until bed, and then she always seemed to withdraw from him. Huddled on her side of the bed, unwilling to move closer unless he reached for her, she was tense, almost frightened, and Cain . . . He didn't like that, at all.

But he couldn't ask her what was bothering her, either. Afraid to ask and to hear her answer . . . afraid for her to lie and that he'd believe her . . .

The idea had come to him in a roundabout way. Sorting through the drawer in his kitchen he'd deemed 'junk', Gin had found the invitation for the art exhibition---the horrible disaster of their only date. Seeing her grimace a she dropped the envelope into the trash can, Cain shrugged and asked her if she wanted to try going on another one.

"_I owe you a good date," he told her_.

_Gin shook her head quickly, eyes widening as she grimaced again. "Oh, no, Cain . . . No_ . . ."

"_Why not?_"

"_That one wasn't so good," she answered, twisting her hands together in her lap. "I don't want to go on another date, ever, ever again_."

"_That's what I mean," he went on. "That one was bad, and it was my fault. Come on, Gin. What do you say? Let me take you on a real date?_"

"_Absolutely not," she maintained_.

He'd pestered her for the last few days, trying to get her to agree to let him take her on another date. She adamantly refused with a smile on her face and a little shake of her head. He hadn't realized that Gin could be quite so stubborn . . .

"Where are you taking me?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

Dropping to a walk as he rounded the hill and grinned at the small opening underneath, he let Gin slip off his back and tugged the tie that held the blindfold in place. "There."

Blinking quickly as she looked around, Gin shook her head in silent confusion as she stared at the white cloth spread in front of the hollowed out hillside. A large picnic basket sat on the ground beside it, and Cain chuckled as she knelt down to peek inside. "Wow . . . a picnic? This is nice!"

Cain stretched out on the blanket and chuckled. "I was afraid you'd think it was stupid."

Gin pulled out a platter of little sandwiches and set the down before digging into the basket again. "Why would I think that?"

He shrugged and accepted the bottle of sparkling water she handed him from the insulated side of the basket. "I don't know. It's just a picnic, right?"

She grimaced as she opened her bottle and squealed as the carbonation sprayed her. "This is great!" she assured him. "When did you do all this?"

"While you were in class," he admitted. She'd had a late afternoon class, and he'd used the time to run the basket and stuff out here. He nodded at the shelter. "Brought you something else."

Following the direction of his gaze, Gin shook her head as she eyed the small wooden chest. "What's that?"

"Drawing stuff," he told her. "Thought maybe you'd like to do some sketching while you're out here."

"Can I sketch you?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Why would you want to do that? I'm fairly boring."

"You are not," she countered as she pulled the cellophane back and grinned at the tiny sandwiches. He'd made a bunch of peanut butter sandwiches and had painstakingly cut them all into cute little shapes that he figured Gin would enjoy. He'd probably wasted more sandwich than he'd ended up with. The smile on her face, though . . . well, it was effort well spent.

Grabbing a heart-shaped sandwich that he popped into his mouth in a single bite, Cain chewed thoughtfully as Gin nibbled a little round one. "These are really great," she commented. "What's in it?"

Glancing over, Cain chuckled. "That's marshmallow cream," he told her. "One of Bellaniece's favorites."

"Oh, it's good," she said, tongue darting out to catch a marshmallow strand. "Wow . . ."

Forcing his gaze away, he stuffed another sandwich in his mouth and stifled a sigh. "Yep."

She pulled a container of salad out of the basket and wrinkled her nose. "This must be for you," she stated.

Cain rolled his eyes. "Vegetables won't hurt you, _Bellaniece_."

"Why eat salad when you made more than enough sandwiches with the delicious fluffy 'mar-shmel-oh'?" She grabbed another sandwich to illustrate her point. "Bellaniece has the right idea."

"That's just sad. You're going to get scurvy."

"If she hasn't, I won't. Mama used to make me eat vegetables when I was little. I ate more than enough back then, thanks."

"Suit yourself, but if you don't have something healthy, I won't let you have dessert."

Gin's ears twitched and turned toward him. "Dessert?"

"Uh huh."

Gin thought that over for a moment. Cain nearly laughed out loud when she grabbed the salad and dug into the basket for chopsticks, feeding herself a huge chunk of iceberg lettuce and making the most ghastly face as she chewed and swallowed.

"Oh, please, it isn't that bad," he scoffed.

Gin forced down another bite of salad. "That's what you think."

He held out his hand for a pair of chopsticks. Gin tried to give hers over. Cain brushed her hand aside and waited for her to find the other pair. He had to admit that salad wasn't really his favorite thing, either. Before Bellaniece, he hadn't actually gone out of his way to eat vegetables, either. Of course, he'd realized pretty quickly that it didn't do any good for him to tell his daughter to do something he wouldn't do, so in that vein, he'd forced himself to eat vegetables . . .

"Wait," Gin said suddenly, casting Cain a suspicious glance. "What did you bring for dessert? I didn't see anything else in there . . ."

"What? You think I'd leave dessert where you'd find it before you ate your lunch?"

"Well, if you were _nice_ . . ."

"I'm plenty 'nice', baby girl. I just know you; that's all."

Gin rolled over onto her hands and knees, crawling into the short hollow under the hill to grab the wooden chest and drag it out to the blanket. Cain stifled a sigh as he watched her, short blue skirt riding up the backs of her thighs and quickly looked away. He knew those thighs a little too well, had been too close to them too often not to . . . Gin hadn't made any overtures to make him think that she would mind his attention, but he was loathe to push her on that, either. A surge of panic swept through him again. He had to fix it. He needed her . . .

Staring up at the shelter he'd built, he smiled slightly as he recalled the day he'd spent digging it out. He'd worked all afternoon into the evening. This had been his favorite place to go; an escape from the rigid training of his youth; a place he could be free to think, to sketch . . . to be himself . . . Even if it hadn't been very often, this place had provided a welcome haven from the responsibilities of his training, and though Sesshoumaru and Kagura likely knew of it, neither had ever bothered him here.

"There are two sketch pads in here," Gin said as she pulled things out of the chest.

"Of course there are. One is for me."

"For you? What are you going to sketch?"

"You."

The sketchpad fell out of her hands as her gaze shot up to lock with his. "Me?"

He nodded.

"Why me?"

"Why not you?"

She shook her head. "But I---"

"You are what I want to sketch."

Ducking her chin as a flush blossomed over her cheeks, Gin shrugged. "If you sketch me, I can sketch you?"

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good."

Gin slowly pulled pencils out of the chest and cleared her throat. "O-okay."

'_God, I want to kiss her_,' he thought as he watched her chew on her lip. He had to wonder if she would push him away.

"Gin?"

She lifted her eyes without raising her chin.

"You . . . you want to see it?"

"See what?"

"You want to _touch_ it?"

"C-Cain?"

"You . . . want to . . . _ride_ it?"

". . . What?"

With a soft chuckle, he stood up, grasping her hands and pulling her to her feet, too. Ignoring her questions, he pulled her along the vague path in the deep grass. He had one more thing to show her; something he only hoped would make her happy . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

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Gin gasped and clapped her hands as the giant bronze colored dog stretched out in the grass. He was huge---absolutely massive---and he uttered a sound halfway between a whine and a happy growl. As friendly as he seemed, she could sense the underlying power of the youkai. The first real sense that he had most certainly earned his position as North American tai-youkai was evident to her. Cain was a wild creature, wasn't he? Mononoke . . . Magical creature . . . 

Serene and beautiful with an underlying sense of danger, he resonated with an indomitable sense of nobility. Cain was waiting for her---waiting for her to make some sort of gesture, waiting for her to accept him . . .

His Mokomoko-sama had merged with him. The glossy fur of his tail and ruff rippled in the late summer breeze, and he ducked his head, seemed to be beckoning her closer. Traversing the length of the wide open meadow, he stood well above the tallest of the surrounding trees. He was taller than their thirty-story apartment building, and Gin stared in awe at the absolute majesty of his inu-youkai form. Thumping his long, thick tail against the ground as the earth trembled under the sheer force of the movement, Cain dropped his nose into his paws.

"You're so big," she murmured as she slowly stepped forward to sink her hands into the thick fur of his ruff. He had to tilt his head to the side to see her. She barely stood as high as his muzzle. Letting his head fall to the side, he wuffed at her, telling her that she was safe, that he would take care of her.

His paw was bigger than she was, but she had never felt safer, either. He wouldn't hurt her, and she knew that. Something in his youki was warm and inviting.

Cain lifted his head and seemed to smile, the corners of his mouth drawing back in an odd sort of grin. Rising up on his hind legs with his front paws still on the ground, he looked like a happy puppy, and Gin giggled when he whined, inviting her to play.

It seemed like the most natural thing to do, climbing up on his shoulders. He didn't mind---stood completely still, in fact. Nestled in the comfort of his heavy coat, she laughed when he slowly stood up. The low, terse growl was meant as a warning. Gin waited, holding her breath as Cain crouched then leapt. Soaring above the meadow, higher than the trees, she could see the skyline of Tokyo in the distance yet it seemed so very far away.

Letting her head fall back as the wind rippled through her hair, Gin flattened her ears against the whistling breeze as bubbles of laughter ebbed out of her. She felt so free, so light . . . She felt like she was flying despite the very real, very solid mass of Cain's youkai form. He barked low---almost a growl. The acknowledgement spoke to her heart, whispered to her soul. Everything about him was familiar.

She scarcely felt him land. Hitting the ground only to push off into the sky once more, there was a certain poetry in his movements, an elegance that combined with the intrinsic feel of the spirit. She would have let him take her to the ends of the earth, she supposed. When he lit on the ground in the field once more, she sighed.

Cain stretched out again as Gin slipped down onto the grass. Darting around his head, she stroked his muzzle, smiled at her reflection in the sapphire eyes she knew so well. He whined just a little as Gin carefully crawled into the nest formed by his crossed paws. Curling up beside him with her cheek resting against his thick ruff, she ran her fingers through the glossy strands. Sheltered beside him, she could hear his heart beating, and she smiled as she closed her eyes.

He would keep her safe, wouldn't he? He'd watch over her while she slept. For the first time since the day Cain had told her everything, Gin didn't keep herself awake with worries, with questions that didn't have answers. She couldn't change anything, and there really wasn't a thing she could do about it. Even if she could, would it matter? Cain was with her now. He'd be there when she woke up. So long as he was there . . .

Maybe that was enough . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

The gray lines were smudged just enough to soften the impact on the paper. Sitting with his back against a tree trunk, Cain's hand moved in rapid strokes, creating and delineating as dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves high above. The late afternoon shade appeared as streaks and blotches on the girl's skin, and he smiled slightly as he watched the breeze lifting and toying with the silvery strands of her hair. 

Wrapped in the security of his Mokomoko-sama, Gin sighed in her sleep, her face nestled in the rich bronze fur. Cheeks touched with a hint of dusty rose, she reminded Cain of the romantic painters' depictions of cherubs and angels. '_Precious_,' he thought with a tiny smile. He'd never really thought of that word when he looked at someone before---at least, no one but Bellaniece. She was precious to him, too . . .

'_Cain, you know, there might be a way_ . . .'

Concentrating on the flowing lines that depicted the Mokomoko-sama in the picture, Cain scowled and took a moment to scrape the pencil lead back to sharpness again. '_Hmm?_'

'_She was right, you know? About saving a part of Isabelle when you saved Bellaniece_ . . .'

That gave him pause, and he stared at the leaves high above. '_But I still made that promise, and . . . I can't go back on my word_ . . .'

'_And Gin? What if she needs you, Cain? What then?_'

He sighed. '_So long as she needs me . . . I promised her that, didn't I?_'

'_So long as she needs you . . . Do you know what that means?_'

Cain let his head fall back against the tree trunk. '_I know what that means. If she needs me . . . for as long as she needs me_ . . .'

'. . . _That could be a long time, Cain_.'

Tamping down the surge of cautious hope that shot through him, he smiled slightly and drew a deep breath. '_A long time? With Gin . . . That wouldn't be . . . bad . . . would it?_'

'_And Isabelle?_'

'_Isabelle_ . . .'

'_The promise you made when Isabelle died?_'

Cain let out his breath and lowered his gaze to the sketch once more. It was almost finished. '_Yeah . . . well, I should have gotten on that plane and gone right back home to Maine. If I had_ . . .'

'_But you didn't_.'

'_No, I didn't_ . . .'

'_Two wrongs won't fix anything. You know that, right?_'

'_I know that_.'

'_Does it really matter now, what you should have done?_'

Cain idly added shading to the girl in the sketch, the tip of his pencil creating shadow and light. '_No . . . no, it doesn't_.'

Gin had looked so innocent, hadn't she? Completely unaffected by the lie she tried to tell him . . . "_I didn't feel so good. It must have been the flu._"

'_Do you believe that?_'

Cain traced the line of her hip. '_She wants me to_.'

'_But do you?_'

'_I_ . . .'

"What are you sketching?"

Blinking away the lingering remains of memory, Cain lifted his gaze to lock with Gin's and smiled. She hadn't moved an inch, as though she'd known that he had been drawing her, but she smiled back at him, and that was enough. He hadn't heard her laugh since that awful night, and her smiles had masked a darker emotion: a sadness that she tried to conceal from him, despite the price it cost her. Transforming into his youkai form took a lot out of him, physically. Hearing her laughter as he'd ran with her . . . That was worth it, in the end.

"What do you think I'm sketching?"

She giggled, her cheeks pinking as she bit her bottom lip and shrugged. "Are you drawing . . . me?"

His smile widened at the bashfulness in her voice. "Yep. How'd you guess?"

"I want to see," she said as she sat up and bent her legs, drawing her feet up beside her as she petted the Mokomoko-sama's fur.

"All right," he agreed.

She scooted over to him and leaned on his arm to peek at the sketch. "That's really . . ." she trailed off with a soft gasp, her hand flying up to cover her mouth, as her eyes widened. "_Cain!_ I'm not---Why did you---? You drew me _naked!_"

Judiciously hiding his amusement at the harshly hissed whisper of her last word, Cain cleared his throat and made a face. "You don't see anything but your hip."

"Still," she argued, cheeks reddening a little more.

"Gin, can you honestly look at this sketch and say that you think it's not tasteful?"

Gin shook her head. "Well, no . . . I mean, it _is_ a really good sketch . . ." she allowed grudgingly. "Really, _really_ good . . ." She giggled suddenly, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around her legs. "That'd be wicked, wouldn't it? Lying around, naked in the grass . . ."

"Wicked?" he echoed, arching an eyebrow at Gin's perceived daring. "You wouldn't do it."

She ducked her chin. "I don't know . . . If I knew that I wouldn't be seen, I . . . might."

"I could make sure no one sees you . . . unless you _wanted_ someone to see you, that is."

She giggled. "You'd peek."

He sputtered indignantly. "Me? Peek? Gin! Your confidence in me is sorely lacking."

Gin leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You wouldn't peek? Why not? You don't like peeking at . . . me?"

Chuckling mixed with a groan as he shook his head and returned the favor, grasping her chin to hold her still so he could kiss her cheek without her trying to escape. "That's a loaded question, and you know it."

"Does that mean you're not answering?"

"Pfft! I'm not that stupid," he grumbled playfully, turning her face to wipe the traces of graphite smudges from her cheek. He'd forgotten that he'd been sketching . . . "Did you have a nice nap?"

"Yes, I did." Face contorting in a frown, Gin suddenly whipped around to look at him. "You didn't let me have dessert!"

Cain blinked. "Dessert?"

"Yep, dessert. You said that you brought dessert, and then you didn't hand it over. Where is it? Huh? Huh?"

He laughed. "You have to wait. It needs to be dark before you can have it."

She snorted. "That's hardly fair."

"It's entirely fair."

"So you say."

Cain rolled his eyes but grinned. "It's nearly dusk."

"Fine, fine, make me wait."

"Another hour won't kill you."

Gin tilted her head to the side as she regarded the sketch in Cain's hands. "Do I get to sketch you now?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I want to."

"I'm not nearly as interesting, wrapped up in my Mokomoko-sama . . ."

"Oh, can I draw you in youkai form? The big dog?"

Cain coughed suddenly and choked back a laugh. "The . . . big . . . dog . . .?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"That sounds even less interesting."

"You drew me _naked!_" she reminded him, hissing the word 'naked' as though she didn't dare say it out loud.

"Okay, so I'll get _naked_, and you can draw me," he teased with a perfect affectation of her hissed word.

Snapping her mouth closed as her cheeks exploded in a deep blush, she sucked in her breath so sharply it whistled into her lungs. "Cain!"

"Parts are parts, baby girl."

"No, they're not," she shot back.

"You drew a naked male in class."

"This isn't class."

"Still hung up on form over function, are you?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes."

He laughed then sighed and shook his head. "Dog form, eh?"

Breaking into her most winning smiles, Gin nodded happily. "Please?"

Cain closed his sketchbook and dropped it into the wooden box. "The things I do for you, Gin Izayoi . . ."

"You're such a martyr," she quipped as she dug out the other sketchbook and selected a pencil.

Grunting slightly as he pushed himself to his feet and swiped up the Mokomoko-sama, Cain spared Gin a last longsuffering glance before striding away so that he could transform without disturbing the trees.

'_So let me get this straight: we're transforming just because Gin wants to draw us?_'

'_Yeah, that sounds about right_.'

'_All because you wanted her to laugh?_'

'_That sounds accurate, too_.'

'_Cain, you're a real sucker, did you know it?_'

Tossing the furry length of the Mokomoko-sama over his shoulder, Cain grinned just a little. '_Have you heard her laughter?_'

'. . . _Yeah_ . . .'

'_Good, then you should know why I do it._'

His youkai sighed. '_Yeah, I do_ . . .'

* * *

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* * *

Gin stood on her knees as she tried to peer over Cain's shoulder. 

"Patience is a virtue, baby girl," he commented.

She made a face. "I just want to see what you're doing."

"You're making me nervous."

"I am not!"

"All right. You're not."

"What _are_ you doing?"

He finally turned around, holding out a stick with two fat white globs stuck on the end. They looked almost like cotton balls, but they smelled like the marshmallow fluff that Cain had spread on some of the sandwiches. "Why are they on the stick?" she asked as she sniffed them.

Cain chuckled. "Hold them over the flames, but not too close or they'll catch fire."

"This is dessert?" she asked dubiously.

"Part of it."

She didn't understand what he meant, but she carefully held the stick over the flames of the small fire. Cain grasped her hand and raised it a little higher before letting go and turning his attention back to something that Gin couldn't see.

Sitting up on her heels, she tilted her head back and tried to catch a glimpse of what Cain was doing. She heard paper tearing and the crinkle of plastic, but she couldn't smell anything other than the smoke from the fire.

"Your marshmallows are burning," Cain remarked idly without turning to look.

Gin squealed as she jerked the stick out of the fire and stared at the flames engulfing the food. "Oh, no!"

"Blow them out," he said in a calm voice.

She did, wrinkling her nose as she stared at the blackened treat. "I ruined them."

Cain chuckled and turned around. Grasping the stick in one hand, he carefully pulled the blackened layer off the marshmallows and popped them into his mouth. "See? It's fine," he garbled around the mouthful.

"It was _burnt!_"

"It's not so bad," he said after swallowing. "Bellaniece likes them that way. Marshmallows are one of the few things that don't taste too terrible if you burn them. Give me your stick."

Gin gave him the stick and scooted closer to watch as Cain carefully pushed the melted, gooey marshmallows onto the chocolate and thin square cracker-thing he had arranged. "Ooh, what's that?"

"It's a 's'more'." Setting her stick aside, he took another cracker and set it on top, squeezing the makeshift sandwich just enough that the melted marshmallow oozed out around the sides before handing it to Gin. "Be careful. The marshmallow is still hot."

Gin took the concoction and sniffed at it as she turned it from side to side. Nibbling the corner of it, she giggled. "It's good!"

He chuckled as he skewered more marshmallows onto the stick and held it out over the flames. "Glad you like them."

"Can I have another one?"

"You haven't finished that one."

"Well, I will . . . then may I?"

Cain rolled his eyes as he carefully rotated the stick. "Yeah, sure . . ."

"The stars are really pretty tonight," Gin mused, staring high above the field at the twinkling sky.

"Yeah," he said as he squished another s'more together. "It's hard to see them in Tokyo."

"Mama said that the stars were brighter in Papa's time."

"That makes sense. Less pollution and all that." He smiled suddenly, shaking his head as he chuckled. "If you think this is something, you should see the stars in Maine. Some nights they seem low enough to touch them. We can do this again, you know? You can eat as many s'mores as you want, and we'll watch the stars all night. They're really something, out over the ocean . . ."

Dropping her gaze to her sticky fingers, Gin tried to make sense of what he said. "That sounds really nice."

He didn't notice her reluctance as he prepared another snack. "There's one place Bellaniece and I usually go. It has the best view of the stars and the ocean . . . You'll like it."

'_Don't read too much into it, Gin. He probably doesn't realize what he's saying_.'

'_Of course not_,' she agreed. '_He makes it sound like we have a future together, doesn't he?_'

'. . . _Take what you can get, doll, and don't ask him for more_ . . .'

She drew a deep breath and smiled. '_Take what I can get. That's right_ . . .'

"Is that one for me?" she asked, brushing aside the morbid thoughts and concentrating on the moment instead. Intercepting Gin's acute interest when he started to bite into his s'more, Cain sighed and handed it over. "Thank you," she told him.

He leaned back on his elbows, crossing his ankles as he stretched out beside the fire. "You're welcome."

"You're not having one?" she asked as she bit into the s'more.

"I'm all right. Anyway, you'll just keep taking mine."

Gin snapped her mouth closed as her cheeks pinked, but she didn't stop eating. "I wouldn't!"

"You would."

"I might," she admitted.

He laughed as he shifted his gaze to her. "You've got marshmallow on your chin," he pointed out.

"I do?"

"Yep, sure do." He nodded, watching in undisguised amusement as she wiped her chin and missed.

"Did I get it?"

"Nope."

Gin made a face as she swallowed the last of that s'more, too. "These are messy."

"Here," he said as he sat up and licked his thumb before rubbing the marshmallow away. "It's all gone."

"You didn't bring any napkins or anything, did you?"

"No, why? Is something else bothering you?"

She grimaced and held up her hand. "I'm still sticky," she confessed.

He reached for her hand and gently licked her fingers. She gasped softly, trying to pull away. She supposed he might have done the same thing if Bellaniece had been in the same situation. There wasn't anything overtly sexual in the gesture, she couldn't help but feel the electric shock of sensation; the absolute temerity of his actions sending resounding waves of misfiring nerves in her body as his tongue bathed away the lingering marshmallow. "C-Cain . . ."

"Hmm?"

"M-my fingers are c-c-clean . . ."

"Think so?" he asked but didn't let go of her hand.

She nodded.

He spared a moment to kiss the back of her hand before finally relinquishing his hold on her. "Can't have you all sticky, can we?"

She laughed weakly, pressing her now-clean hand against her stomach to quell the butterflies that were fighting for control of her body. Trying to distract her wayward thoughts more than anything, she reached over him for the stick and the bag of marshmallows.

"You're going to get all sticky again," he warned. She grinned as she stabbed the stick through a couple marshmallows.

"You can just lick my fingers clean."

He groaned then sighed, slowly shaking his head just before casting her a rather sheepish grin. "You know, Gin . . . I should probably apologize."

"What for?" she asked absently, preoccupied with turning the marshmallows over the flame as she tried not to burn them.

"Well," Cain drawled, "I know you said you didn't want to go on another date."

"You have to admit, the one was really bad," she muttered then sat up a little straighter as suspicion crept into her mind. "What do you mean, '_another_' date?"

Cain shrugged. "This is a date."

"Wh---? No, it's not!"

"I provided transportation, didn't I?"

Gin made a face. "Yes, but---"

"And lunch?"

"Sure, but---"

"And I found things to do that amused you?"

"Okay, but---"

"And the all-important dessert?"

"All right, but---"

"I hate to tell you, but that's a date, Gin."

"It isn't!"

"But it is."

"It can't be!"

"And yet . . . it is."

She snorted. "Feh! You tricked me!"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I did."

"That's not very honorable of you."

He reached over and tweaked her bottom lip. "You're pouting, baby girl. It's damn cute, too."

She swatted his hand away. "Cain! That's not nice."

"Are you having a good time?"

"Well . . . yes . . ."

He chuckled at her sullen tone. "Good. So I am."

She shot him a sidelong glance. "You . . . are?"

"Yeah." Cain smiled at her. "Yeah, I am."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_**For MMorg readers**: Sometimes new chapters don't show up on MMorg. Try holding down the CTRL button and hit 'refresh' on your internet browser to reload the page. This forces the browser to reload the current page and ignore pages already cache'd in the memory. This works on Internet Explorer, Mozilla, and Netscape, and should allow you to see all current chapters, reviews, etc_.

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

_He tricked me_!

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	69. Job Displacement

**_Chapter 69_**

**_Job Displacement

* * *

_**

Belle grimaced and carefully patted herself dry after stepping out of the shower in the steam-filled bathroom. Peering down at the damage, she made a face and sighed. '_Wow, it's already_ _discolored_. . .'

'_Yeah . . . Kichiro isn't going to like that_ . . .'

She smiled ruefully. She didn't think for a moment that her youkai voice was wrong. Wiping off the mirror, she turned to the side, staring at her profile as she bit on her bottom lip and shook her head. '_Yeah, I can't hide that_ . . .'

The bruise was roughly the size and shape of a football and encompassing the better portion of her hip, it looked much worse than it felt. It only really bothered her if she applied direct pressure to it, and while she felt a little stiff, it wasn't anything to worry about too much.

'_I can't believe you're not upset over this. Ryomaru tossed you like a limp noodle_.'

'_We were practicing_,' she reasoned. '_He wasn't trying to hurt me, for God's sake!_'

'_But Kichiro is still going to be furious. You know that, right?_'

Belle snorted. '_It was his idea that I learn self-defense. He had to have known that I'd be thrown around sometime_.'

'_Yeah, but you scream and holler when you paper cut your finger_.'

'_It's not a big deal_,' she maintained. '_No harm, no foul, and I'm fine_.'

'_It's because of InuYasha, isn't it? And don't try to tell me it isn't. That freaked you out: admit it_.'

She didn't deny that. Having just been lectured on the need to pay attention at all times since attackers rarely asked permission before they targeted someone, Belle should have been more alert, but when Kagome had entered the dojo with a tray of cold drinks and a stack of bridal magazines where she'd bookmarked a few wedding dresses for Belle's perusal, all thoughts of training had flown right out of her head. Because of that, she wasn't prepared when Ryomaru---acting upon his father's orders---barreled straight toward her. Belle had managed to cover her face with her arms before the hunter realized that she wasn't going to move. He'd tried to alter his path, but he was moving so quickly, he'd just been able to grab Belle with one arm and stick out his other arm to brace against the impact. Belle landed hard on her side, and the added weight and momentum of Ryomaru's body had squashed her against the mat.

"_Damn it, are you okay?" Ryomaru growled as he stood up and caught Belle's hand to drag her to her feet_.

"_Yeah," she muttered, still a little disoriented. "Fine . . . fine_ . . ."

"_What the hell were you doing?" InuYasha snarled as he shoved Ryomaru away from Belle_.

"_I was doing what you said to do," Ryomaru retorted_.

_InuYasha snorted. "Feh! I told you to attack her, not kill her! She's a girl, damn it! Would you be that careless with your sister?_"

_Ryomaru glared at his father as his cheeks pinked, and he shook his head. "No_."

"_Well, she'd gonna be your sister-in-law, baka---if you don't kill her, that is. Be more careful, will you?_"

_Ryomaru nodded once, glaring at his father for another moment before shifting his gaze to Belle once more. She must have swayed a little on her feet because he reached out to steady her_.

_InuYasha shoved Ryomaru's hand away and snorted again. "You sure you're okay?_"

"_I'm fine," she lied, feeling like she just might throw up_.

"_We're done for the day," InuYasha declared. "Let Kagome look at it. She's good with first aid_."

_She'd taken a shower and let Kagome look at the injury before dressing. Kagome had told Belle that InuYasha was always harder on the boys when they were training with Gin. While he wanted Gin to be taught to defend herself, he also recognized that girls---even hanyou girls---weren't meant to be as rough and tumble as the boys were. Then the miko smiled and said that it was a good sign. "InuYasha likes you, you know. He protects you like you were one of his own. It's really rather sweet, and he'll probably be just as bad with this baby, if we have another daughter . . . Poor thing . . . I rather hope it's a boy so InuYasha can't pester her about dating like he's done with Gin _. . ."

Belle had thought so, too. Still she didn't want to cause controversy between Kichiro and his twin. It was bad enough, witnessing InuYasha and Ryomaru's disagreement. She didn't want to see the brothers fighting, especially over an accident . . .

Then she'd spent the rest of the time she'd normally have spent training browsing bridal magazines with her future mother-in-law. Kagome, it seemed, was just as anxious to help Belle plan the event as Belle was, even if Kichiro and she had yet to set an actual date. Having the wedding planned would just make it that much faster when they were able to do that. InuYasha had come inside long enough to see what they were doing, and upon discovery of the women pouring over the magazines, he'd snorted loudly and stomped right back outside.

It was Kagome's considered opinion that, since Bellaniece was American and the daughter of the North American tai-youkai, that the wedding should be in the tradition that Belle had always expected: a Christian ceremony. Though the miko had grown up in a Shinto shrine, she had insisted that marriage was more for legalities than for actual bonding among youkai and hanyous. The only part of the thing that bothered Belle was the idea of her father having to give her away though she didn't delude herself for a moment as to Kichiro's feelings on that. He'd love it.

Pulling on a clean dress---she'd brought over most of the clothes Kichiro had bought her in New York---Belle smoothed the skirt over her hips and sighed again before stepping out into the hallway just in time to hear the doorbell chime.

"Hello, Belle. Is Kich here?"

Belle stepped back to invite Nezumi into the house. "No, he's working. I've got to head there in a couple hours, myself."

Nezumi nodded. "Have you seen Yukitora? We haven't seen her in a couple days, and I thought maybe she was here."

"The cat? Yeah, she's here . . . I think she was in the kitchen . . ."

Nezumi followed Belle through the house to the kitchen and laughed when she spotted her cat napping on the taupe throw rug in front of the refrigerator. "Kich bought her canned food again, didn't he?"

Belle nodded. "He spoils her. I thought she _was_ his cat for awhile."

"She comes over here when Ryo picks on her too much, then he misses her so he sends me looking for her, and most of the time, she's here. She's gone to InuYasha's house before, but he's as bad as Ryomaru is about that . . . Like father, like son, I guess . . ."

Belle dug a couple bottles of water out of the refrigerator, careful not to upset Yukitora, and handed one to Nezumi. The woman stared at Belle for a moment then laughed suddenly, twisting the cap to break the seal as Belle shook her head and waited to hear just what Nezumi found so funny.

"I'm sorry," Nezumi finally said, waving her hand as though trying to brush aside her amusement. "It's just weird . . ."

"What is?"

Nezumi followed Belle into the living room. "I know he said you were going to be his mate . . . it's just . . . different, you being here when he isn't. Not bad, of course, just different."

"He's not really the kind to let people stay here when he isn't?"

Nezumi shook her head and slugged down about half her bottle of water. "It isn't that," she said as she capped the bottle. "It's just that he doesn't let women in his house---well, other than family . . ."

"Really?"

"Yeah . . . I guess it's because he lives so close to his parents. He's never brought a girl home."

For some reason, hearing that claim verified made Belle smile. Sure, Kichiro had said as much, and she absolutely believed him. If he didn't lie about how many women he had been with, why would he have lied about that? No, the happiness that surged through her had to be caused by the feeling that she really was just as special to him as he said she was.

Belle wandered toward the glass doors. The late morning sunshine didn't permeate the patio since the house faced the east, but it was one of her favorite places in the afternoon. A spot of hot pink caught her eye, and Belle set her water bottle on the piano. Yukitora had left one of her toy mice in the yard, it seemed. She started to turn the door handle when Nezumi's sharp hiss stopped her.

"Ahh . . . don't let Kich catch you putting your drink on his piano," she warned, her face contorted in an exaggerated grimace.

Belle blinked and stared at the water bottle she'd set down. Snatching it off the piano, she hurried off to find a cloth before the condensation ring marred the finish. She knew how he felt about the instrument. She'd just forgotten . . .

"I know he loves this thing," Belle grumbled as she wiped the moisture away. "It's weird, though. He's normally not so anal about 'things' . . ."

"What? His piano?"

Belle dropped the rag on the table behind the sofa. "Yeah," she replied.

"Not so weird, really. I mean, they've all got something like that."

"Like what? 'They', who?"

Nezumi sat in one of the thickly cushioned chairs as Belle sank down on the sofa. "The twins and Gin . . . Kich didn't tell you?"

Belle shook her head.

"Oh . . . Well, InuYasha got that piano for him about the time he graduated from his second instructor. Kich went through piano teachers fast, and I guess InuYasha thought that he had earned a reward, of sorts, so he started looking. Seemed like he spent hours reading stuff on various piano makers, and when he'd decided that a man named Arpellagio Guisepe made the best ones but that there was a waiting list about five years long---"

"Five years?" Belle cut in, shaking her head in disbelief. "For a baby grand piano?"

Nezumi laughed. "Arpellagio-san crafted each one by hand. Talk about old-school."

"Oh, my . . ."

"Yeah, so anyway, InuYasha called Sesshoumaru and actually asked him to pull some strings. If you know anything about InuYasha then you know that he'd rather chew his arm off than ask Sesshoumaru for anything . . ."

Belle nodded. "I've gathered as much." She shook her head, recalling things Kichiro had said to her, about how his father hadn't ever really understood him. "He really went out of his way."

"Sure, he did. InuYasha was always like that. If his children wanted something---if they earned it---he'd make sure he got them the very best. With Ryomaru, it was his sword. With Gin, it was her seashells and art. With Kich? It's that piano."

"And that's why he loves it."

"Yeah. I doubt it has as much to do with the piano, itself, as it does with the whole idea that his father gave it to him."

That made sense, didn't it? She had to admit that it had seemed strange, that Kichiro put so much stock in his piano. She hadn't realized, had she? Whether it was a silly little dancing ballerina music box for her or a baby grand piano that his father had taken the time to acquire . . . Maybe Kichiro really did understand Belle's feelings better than she had ever really given him credit for.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"I thought I'd find you here."

InuYasha peered down through the branches of Goshinboku and sighed. He'd retreated here after the incident in the dojo. While he knew that Ryomaru hadn't intentionally hurt Belle, he also knew that his oldest son had spent years learning how to keep from hurting Gin. He should have been better able to avoid hurting Belle, too.

Kagome smiled at him, shielding her eyes with a cupped hand.

"I ain't apologizing."

"You don't have to. Ryomaru knows that you were just concerned about Bellaniece."

InuYasha snorted.

"No, really, he does. You like her, don't you?"

Dropping out of the tree long enough to scoop up Kagome before leaping back up, the hanyou wrapped his arms around his mate and sighed, absently rubbing her slightly distended tummy. '_Another five months_ . . .' he thought as he smiled just a little. She giggled softly, snuggling against his chest as she stared at the shrine house. "She ain't as bad as her old man," he allowed.

"I think she's lovely. They'll make each other happy."

He snorted again. "You don't know the half of it," he grumbled, cheeks reddening as he recalled the scene he'd inadvertently walked into in Kichiro's office. Belle was slouching down in one of the chairs facing Kichiro's desk, and his son had been quite happy, kneeling between the girl's thighs . . .

"What's that?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Is there something else bothering you?"

"Not really," he remarked.

Kagome sighed. "It's strange, isn't it?"

"What is?"

The miko shrugged, tugging on the hair that spilled over InuYasha's shoulder. He wrinkled his nose before leaning toward her, tweaking her nose with his. "Ryomaru found his mate . . . so has Kichiro . . . Gin will find hers, eventually, and all our grown children will be starting their own lives."

InuYasha tightened his arms around his wife. "It'll be awhile before Gin finds one."

"Will it?"

He shrugged. "Reminds me. She needs to stay the fuck away from that damn Zelig. His stink is rubbing off on her."

"InuYasha . . . they're friends."

"I know," he grumbled. "And he's her teacher; I got it."

"She's also his student aide."

"Yeah, well . . ."

"Maybe she likes him."

"Feh! That old bastard? Not hardly."

"Zelig-sensei isn't that old."

InuYasha snorted again. "He's older than me . . ."

"True enough, but he really isn't that old by youkai standards."

Considering Kagome's words, InuYasha scowled. It wasn't really possible, was it? Gin was too innocent, too happy, to be interested in a brooding, stuffy youkai like him. Nope, he just couldn't see it. He'd seen way too many of the boys that Gin had tried to date over the years. Comparing those pups to Zelig Cain was like comparing apples to oranges . . .

"She don't want him," he stated.

"Why's that?"

"Zelig's got a stick shoved further up his ass than that bastard of a brother of mine; that's why."

Kagome giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, you did tell her that anyone she dated would have to stand up to you, right?"

"So?"

Her giggle escalated into full-out laughter. "So . . . I'd think a tai-youkai could give you a run for your money, even if he can't really beat you."

"I could take him," InuYasha said with a snort.

"I know you could," she assured him as she snuggled closer to his chest. "You're the toughest, strongest hanyou, ever."

"Flattery won't work, wench."

She kissed his flushed cheek. "Of course it won't, dog-boy."

". . . Feh."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"You seemed awfully quiet during dinner," Belle remarked as she dropped her purse on the table inside the door and hurried over to turn on a light. "Something bothering you?"

"Not really," he replied. "I was just thinking."

"Uh oh . . ."

He rolled his eyes. "Careful, wench."

She giggled. "Okay, okay. What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking . . . I don't think you should work for me anymore."

Belle seemed surprised as she shook her head and blinked. "Oh? Why is that? Doesn't my job performance . . . please you?"

He chuckled as she slipped her arms around his neck. "Your performance is just fine, princess, though I daresay my family will be knocking before entering my office ever again . . ."

"Do you think Ryomaru suspected anything?"

"Well, you _did_ wave."

She laughed. "He said bye to me."

"You were under my desk. What do you suppose he thought you were doing? And he is inu-hanyou. I'm pretty sure he could smell what was going on."

Belle arched a brow playfully. "Are you saying you didn't like the blow job?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't seem to have liked it," she pouted. "You sounded completely normal when you were talking to him."

"Yeah, well . . . I think Ryo was wondering just why my ear was twitching . . ."

"Was it?"

"Kami, yes."

"Good . . . otherwise I might have had to consider whether or not you really liked my attention."

"Belle-chan, you can crawl under my desk any time you'd like."

"Not if you fire me."

"You could come by and visit me."

"But I like working _under_ you, doctor."

"Yeah, but you know, I shouldn't be paying you for doing that work, don't you think?"

"Oh . . . I see . . ."

"You're going to be my mate. I'm not paying you for sex."

"Okay, then let's talk severance packages."

"Hmm . . . you'll get nights and weekends."

She thought that over. "Not good enough. I get nights, weekends, and _days_ right now . . ."

"As I said, you can still visit me."

"Are you going to give me a good reference, then?"

"You want to work?"

Belle shrugged. "What else am I supposed to do all day while you're gone?"

"You don't have to work. If you want to, fine, but I don't expect you to . . ."

"Well, I don't have anything else to do."

He wrinkled his nose. "I thought you might say that, so I'm willing to sweeten the deal."

"Oh?"

Digging out his wallet, Kichiro plucked a new credit card and held it out to her. "Do your damage, princess."

"Izayoi Bellaniece? But I'm not an Izayoi yet."

"You will be soon enough, right?"

"Well . . . I thought that since I'm the last Zelig, I should keep my maiden name. It has pizzazz, don't you think?"

Kichiro snorted.

"Okay, then how about Zelig-Izayoi?"

He snorted again.

"Fine, then . . . Bellaniece Izayoi . . . I guess that'll have to do . . ." She giggled. "Still, I wouldn't want to run up your credit card bills _too_ much, and there are a limited number of stores here . . . I might get bored, and then where will I be? I think I should work, don't you? So will you give me a good reference?"

"I hate to say it, princess, but not even you could really damage my bank accounts that much, but as for giving you a good reference, I could . . ." Kichiro trailed off as he considered Belle's words. "Hell, no, wench! You think I'd do that when I know what kind of things you do for your boss?"

Belle shook her head, brow furrowing as she stepped back. "What?"

"Yeah, you heard me," he went on. "I'd have to kill the bastard."

"What are you . . .? You think I'd . . .?"

"Well, I'm your boss, and you do that stuff to me . . ."

Her arms dropped, and she blushed though the spark in her gaze belied any real embarrassment. "I see," she finally said, her tone bright and calm.

He didn't have time to ponder the mercurial shift in her mood when the telephone rang, and Kichiro strode over to answer it. "Izayoi."

"Evening, Kichiro. How was your day?"

Kichiro grinned at the warm sound of his mother's voice. "Couldn't have been better."

Kagome sighed. "Good, good . . . did you talk to your brother?"

"He stopped by the office."

She laughed, relief obvious in the sound. "I'm glad. I told your father that there wasn't any reason to worry."

Kichiro headed toward the kitchen for a drink, trying not to smile as he thought about his brother's hasty visit. Ryomaru had seemed a little strange, but he figured his twin was shocked that Belle had been under his desk at the time. "Worry?"

"I just wanted to make sure that everything was all right," Kagome went on. "Anyway, I'll let you go then. Goodnight, dear."

Kicking the refrigerator door closed, Kichiro pushed the marble into the soda bottle. "Okay. Night, Mama."

He clicked the 'off' button and dropped the receiver onto the counter as Belle rounded the corner, leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest, a tight little smile on her face. "Kichiro, I was wondering . . . how much are the rest of Kelly's surgeries going to cost?"

"Wha---? Why?"

She shrugged. "Humor me."

He thought it over. "I don't know . . . anywhere up to five million yen . . . why?"

Belle nodded and pushed herself away from the door frame. "Fine, then. I'll send over a check tomorrow. Daddy won't mind, and Kelly knows I was paying you for the surgeries, anyway."

"Belle?"

She shot him a tepid smile and turned away. "Goodnight, Dr. Izayoi."

Darting forward to catch her wrist, Kichiro pulled her back around to face him. "What just happened?"

Belle pulled away. "I'm tired. I'm going home."

He sighed. "I was teasing, Belle. You know: joking?"

Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest again. "You were? See, I didn't get that."

"Belle---"

"It's fine. If that's what you really think, then it's just too bad."

Kichiro snorted. "I don't think you'd---I was _kidding_."

"It wasn't funny."

"Oh, come on, princess! You know---"

She whipped around and snatched her purse off the table and jerked the door open. "I'll call you---if I ever get the joke."

Taken aback by her obvious anger, Kichiro watched in gap-mouthed surprise as the girl he knew so well stormed out the door and into the barely halted cab.

'_What the . . .? How did that happen? She knows I don't mean that! She knows_ . . .'

He snorted, expression darkening as he glowered at the closed door. He wasn't sure what to make of her anger. She had to have known he was teasing. She had to have realized that he knew she wasn't about to go off and do the same sort of things with her next boss.

'_I was teasing, damn it_ . . .'

Heaving a sigh of abject frustration, Kichiro turned on his heel and strode back into the living room. '_I'm not apologizing_,' he grumbled. '_I didn't do a damn thing . . . It's not _my_ fault if she can't take a joke! Damn it_ . . .'

Nope, he wasn't going to break and call her. If Bellaniece wanted to be mad about something that was obviously meant to be taken as teasing, then that was her fault.

'_Who are you kidding? You'll break. You'll call her. You know you will_.'

Kichiro snorted as he flopped onto the sofa, crossing his ankles as he scowled at the ceiling. '_Not this time_,' he promised. '_It's not happening_.'

"Feh!"

* * *

**_A/N_**:

5,_000,000 Yen is roughly $45,000.00. The surgeries would probably cost more if he weren't doing it for charity_.

_My father-in-law was in a really bad car accident yesterday, and for now, my tolerance level is extremely low. I'll update when I can_.

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

_What'd I do_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	70. Interrogation

**_Chapter 70_**

**_Interrogation

* * *

_**

Belle shut off the shower taps with a sigh and shoved the plastic curtain aside. Showering to remove the lingering traces of Kichiro's scent from her skin as well as in a vain effort to calm herself out of her current irritation, she really should have known that it wouldn't work that easily. '_What I need is a glass of warmed milk and a good book_,' she thought as she opened the bathroom door and shuffled across the hallway into her bedroom to don one of her father's oversized shirts. Peering over at the window, she tried not to be disappointed that Kichiro wasn't outside, after all.

'_That's ridiculous. I don't want him to come over here_.'

'_Yes, you do. You want him to apologize for what he said_.'

Grimacing as she buttoned the shirt, Belle glanced down to make sure the gargantuan bruise on her hip was hidden beneath the folds of fabric as she headed for the kitchen. '_I can't believe he said that . . . that was so mean _. . .'

She sighed. No milk. Actually, nothing at all to drink . . . That just figured. All she wanted was warmed milk like her father used to give her when she had trouble sleeping . . . Belle shut the door and ambled over to the sofa.

Staring at the ring on her finger in the wan moonlight filtering through the window, she smiled sadly. '_He doesn't really think . . . would he? I mean, I wouldn't . . . and he should know that, right? It's him---just him_ . . .'

'_He said he was joking, Belle. Isn't that good enough?_'

'_But the thought had to come from somewhere, didn't it?_'

Her youkai didn't answer.

The things she did with Kichiro were beautiful. The sharing of their bodies was a sort of celebration of life and love in her mind. She'd never felt as though it might be bad or wrong, at least until tonight. Kichiro's words . . . They'd hurt.

Her cell phone rang, shattering the silence. Belle yelped as her heart plunged to her feet then slammed back up into her throat with a violent shock. Clutching the shirt over her chest with one hand as she groped around on the table behind the sofa with her other hand, she jerked her purse strap and quickly fished out the phone.

She almost didn't answer it, grimacing as Kichiro's number flashed on the blue LCD screen. With a deep breath, she clicked the device and lifted it to her ear. "Hello?"

"You want to explain what the hell that was all about, wench?"

Rubbing her forehead, Belle closed her eyes for a moment. "I was just going to bed."

"You can go to bed as soon as you explain yourself."

"Explain myself? You're the one who all but said I'd do my next boss."

"And I did say I was joking, right?"

"Yes, well, your joke wasn't funny."

"How long do you plan on being mad at me?"

"Until you apologize."

He sighed. "Fine, I'm sorry."

"You don't _sound_ sorry."

"Yeah, okay . . . I'm sorry you lost your sense of humor."

Belle pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to glare at it. "Goodnight, Dr. Izayoi."

"Belle---"

She hung up and turned off the ringer for good measure before dropping the phone onto the sofa beside her.

The scrape of the door opening drew her attention. Belle crossed her arms over her chest and waited, masking her surprise as her father slipped through the doorway, tugging Gin in behind him. "Be quiet. Bellaniece is probably sleeping . . ."

"I could just wait until tomorrow," she whispered.

"No, it's fine . . . I left it on the counter."

"I feel bad," she pointed out. "I can still make a cake for you, if you want."

"Eh, it's fine. Just make me a special one tomorrow."

Gin giggled as she hugged Cain. "I can do that."

Cain kissed her forehead. "All right . . ."

Very loud throat clearing drew a gasp from Gin as Cain quickly stepped back. Both turned to stare into the shadows of the sofa. Belle reached over and flipped on the lamp. "Well, well, well . . . What do we have here? Out late, weren't we?"

Belle nearly laughed out loud at the completely sheepish look on her father's face. Reminding her of the proverbial child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, the tai-youkai pulled Gin behind his back and shook his head, opening his mouth to try to explain. "It isn't a school night . . ."

"Making excuses, Daddy?"

"Is it working?"

"And just where were the two of you?"

Cain cleared his throat. "We were, uh . . . sketching . . . stuff . . ."

"Do you have any idea just what time it is?" Belle complained.

"Time . . .?"

"Yes, time."

Cain glanced at the clock. "It's, uh, nearly . . . midnight . . ."

Belle sighed and slowly shook her head. "Oh, Daddy . . ."

"It's not my fault," Cain maintained. "Gin wanted to see---" he coughed, "---the big dog."

"The---?" Belle echoed incredulously.

"Big dog," Cain supplied as Gin groaned. Belle figured that the poor girl was probably hiding her face in the back of her father's shirt.

"Oh, my . . ."

". . . Twice," Cain added.

"_Cain!_" Gin hissed.

"Well, you did," he muttered over his shoulder.

"Daddy, are you trying to sneak a _girl_ into your room?"

Cain blinked as his cheeks reddened another shade. "Wh---No . . . Maybe . . ."

"Don't you remember the rule _you_ made? No persons of the opposite sex in one's bedroom," Belle reminded him.

Cain heaved a sigh. "Do as I say, not as I do?"

"But, Daddy, that would make you a hypocrite."

"All right, all right . . ."

Gin grabbed her cake plate off the counter and slunk toward the door. "Gin? Can I ask you a question?" Belle asked, ignoring her father's rapt expression.

Gin stopped in her tracks and slowly peered over her shoulder. "O-okay."

"Just what are your intentions with my father?"

"M-my . . . intentions?" she squeaked.

Belle nodded.

"All right, Bellaniece, you've had your fun," Cain muttered. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I would," she said with a melodramatic sigh. "But I'm thirsty, and there's nothing to drink in the place, and you always tell me not to go out with wet hair . . ."

Cain snorted. "Pfft! Don't be ridiculous!" he scoffed as he strode around the bar into the kitchen and jerked open the refrigerator. "There's . . . nothing. Damn."

"You know, Cain, I could really use something to drink, too," Gin blurted, staring at Belle with a puzzled sort of expression.

"_Et tu_, Gin?" Cain closed the refrigerator and shrugged. "All right," he agreed. "No more interrogations tonight, Bellaniece. I'll be right back."

Belle wiggled her fingers at her father. He shook his head as he closed the door. Gin watched Cain's departure, but the moment he was gone, she darted over to Belle and grabbed her hand. "This is beautiful!" she breathed, staring at the ring on Belle's finger. "Who gave it to you?"

Realizing too late that she'd forgotten to take off the engagement ring, Belle bit her lip and grimaced. "Oh, uh . . ."

"Amethyst," Gin mused, turning Belle's hand from side to side as the gemstones caught the light. "That's Kichiro's color . . . sort of." She gasped, eyes slowly rising to lock with Belle's. "Kich? Really? Does this mean . . .?"

"We're . . . going to be mates," Belle admitted.

Gin's squeal was almost deafening. Belle winced but giggled. "That's just wonderful! I'm so happy for you!"

Belle made a face. "Maybe," she amended as memories of their argument resurfaced. She sighed. "I adore your brother," she explained when confusion surfaced on Gin's face. "I just . . . He said some things, and he said he was joking, but I didn't find them funny at all . . ."

"What'd he say?"

Belle shook her head. "It's not important."

"If it upset you, it is."

She smiled sadly. "I just . . . maybe I overreacted."

"I'm a good listener," Gin ventured.

"He fired me," Belle admitted. "I mean, I don't care about that. It's just that . . . we've done . . . things . . . in his office . . . well, in other places, too, but . . . Kichiro said that he wouldn't give me a good reference because he knew what I did with my boss."

"Stuff?" Gin echoed, shaking her head. She gasped suddenly, mouth rounding in an 'o', and she slowly nodded. "Oh . . . I see . . . _stuff_ . . . You do . . . stuff?"

"Well, yeah . . . We figured it was okay to try the condoms."

"Condoms?"

Belle waved her hand. "Oh, yeah . . . he's researching the prevention of actual mating via the use of condoms, and it works. I mean, he says it all has to do with the introduction of semen into the woman's reproductive system, so the condoms prevent that."

Gin blushed but nodded. "I see . . . well, it makes sense . . ."

"It's just with him, you know? _Only_ him." Belle picked at a loose thread on the hem of her nightshirt and sighed. "I love him, but he . . . All my life, people have thought that I was too cute or pretty to be smart. They've treated me differently because of that, but Kichiro . . . He never has; not until now."

"It doesn't sound like his joke was very funny," Gin murmured. "Oh, Belle . . ."

She shrugged and forced a wan smile. "Nah . . . I just overreacted. He was kidding, right?"

"Not if he made you feel bad."

"Gin, can I ask you a favor?"

Gin nodded, letting go of Belle's hand and straightening her back proudly. "Okay."

Belle sighed. "Will you not tell Daddy? I know you and he are close, and I'm glad, but . . . I want to tell him. I owe him that. I've tried to tell him, you know? It's just hard."

Gin bit her lip as she pondered Belle's request. Nodding slowly, she smiled then winced. "I won't tell him . . . unless he asks me straight out, like, 'Did your brother give my daughter an engagement ring?' Is that okay?"

Belle laughed at Gin's sensibilities. "Okay, and I'll tell him soon."

"Can I do anything to help?"

Belle shrugged. "If you could make sure he's in a good mood, that'd help," she teased ruefully.

Gin giggled. "Not sure if I can do that, but I can try."

Belle shook her head. "I'm glad Daddy has someone like you. It makes it easier."

A hint of a scowl crossed the hanyou's features, but she masked it quickly behind a bright grin. "That's me: everyone's friend."

"I'm back."

Both girls turned to stare at the door as Cain strode in with a paper bag of various drinks.

"There," he said as he slipped the bag onto the counter. "Milk, juice, water . . . soda . . ."

Belle hopped up, cell phone in hand, and grabbed a bottle of water, hiding her ring finger in the folds of her nightshirt. "Well, I'm going to bed now. Night, Daddy," she said, leaning up to kiss her father's cheek. "Night, Gin." She stopped in the doorway of her bedroom, leaning into the hallway to shoot her father a saucy grin. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do . . ."

Cain groaned and rolled his eyes. Gin ducked her chin but not before Belle saw the color filtering into her cheeks. With a soft giggle, she closed her door and sighed as she sat on her window sill.

'_Where are you, Kichiro?_' she wondered as she stared at the night sky. '_Sleep well_ . . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin scowled as Belle disappeared into her room.

"_All my life, people have thought that I was too cute or pretty to be smart. They've treated me differently because of that, but Kichiro . . . He never has; not until now_."

Cain put the rest of the drinks away and turned around, tilting his head to the side as he regarded her. "Gin? You all right?"

Blinking away the troubled thoughts that plagued her, she smiled and stood up. "Yeah, I'm fine. You know, I'm going to go . . . I need a shower. I'm still all sticky."

Cain looked surprised but he nodded. "All right . . . you, um . . . going to leave your window open?"

"I could do that," she allowed.

"If you're sure . . ."

"I sleep better when you're there," she admitted.

He grinned in an entirely self-satisfied sort of way. "Me, too."

"Give me about a half-hour?"

Cain nodded.

Gin pushed herself up to kiss his cheek before slipping out of the apartment and into her own. Setting the platter on the counter, she strode over to the phone and dialed the number, uncaring whether or not her brother might be sleeping. She didn't really figure he was, anyway.

"Izayoi."

"Kichiro."

"Gin? Something wrong?"

She grimaced at the instant alarm in her brother's voice. "Yes," she said, "there is."

"I'll be right over."

"You really hurt Belle, did you know?"

"Belle?"

"Yes, Belle. How could you be so thoughtless? That's just low! How _could_ you?"

"How could---? She was the one who couldn't take a fucking joke," he grumbled. "What did she say?"

"She said you made her feel like she was only good for . . . stuff! She said you made her feel dumb and---"

"What the---? I never---"

"Fix it, Kich! Fix it now!"

"But I didn't do anything! She was the one who was entirely unreasonable! She wasn't listening, and---"

Irrational tears stung the back of her eyelids, and Gin dashed an impatient hand across her eyes. "You belong with her! She's your mate, right? You do what you have to do for her! Don't be stupid, Kichiro! It doesn't matter, what you have to do; you just fix it, okay? Do it, and be glad because sometimes it isn't that easy. Sometimes you can't fix anything at all . . ."

"Gin . . ."

"No, Kichiro. Just apologize. Even if you didn't mean to hurt her . . . You love her, right? And she loves you. Please . . . something needs to go the right way."

He sighed. "All right, baby girl . . . Are you okay?"

Gin sniffled and drew a deep breath. "Yeah, fine. Everything's fine."

The thick pause was telling, and Gin knew in her heart that he didn't believe her. "Did he do something again?"

She grimaced. "Who? Cain? No . . . he's good to me. He's my friend."

"Gin . . ."

"Look, Belle went to bed, but maybe she's still awake. Why don't you call her? The ring you bought her? It's beautiful."

He sighed again. "Yeah, it is."

"Night, Kich."

"Night, Gin. Be careful."

She smiled. "I will. Call Belle."

"All right, I will."

Gin stared at the receiver after the line went dead. Dropping the handset into the cradle, she sighed before heading for the bathroom, hoping she had time enough to wash away the hint of tears that she didn't want Cain to smell.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro stared at his cell phone and shook his head. '_Damn it, Gin_ . . .'

"_It doesn't matter, what you have to do; you just fix it, okay? Do it, and be glad because sometimes it isn't that easy. Sometimes you can't fix anything at all_ . . ."

She was in over her head; he knew she was. Unfortunately, there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it, either. All he could do was hope that Gin, in her own way, could do something that no one else could do. He had faith in her, sure. It didn't make him worry any less . . .

'_She's like your mother. She'll be fine_.'

'_She'd better be_ . . .'

Kichiro let out his breath in a deep whoosh as he dropped over the edge of the roof onto the ledge outside Belle's window.

He'd followed her home. He'd been sitting on the roof the entire time. Grabbing his phone and nearly dialing her number countless time, stubborn pride held him back. '_It was just a joke . . . why on earth would she think that I was belittling her?_' He sighed. Did it matter? The bottom line was that Belle thought he'd been, and right or wrong, he had to make it better . . .

Tapping on her window, half-expecting her to ignore him, he was surprised when she pushed it open, her eyes dark, mysterious in the dim light. "Belle . . . I'm sorry."

Belle stared at him for a long moment, arms crossed over her chest. "Me, too."

"Why would you ever think that I thought you were stupid?"

"I didn't really . . . It just felt that way."

"Come home with me?" he coaxed.

Belle smiled slowly and nodded. "Let me get dressed, and I'll meet you downstairs.

"I've got a better idea," he said, leaning in to grab her hand as he tugged her toward the window.

"What if I fall?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, princess. Like I'd let you fall."

She giggled and sat down, swinging her legs out the window. He grasped her hips and started to lift her. Belle sucked in a sharp hiss of air, and Kichiro let go. "Did I hurt you?" he demanded with a shake of his head. "Did I scratch you?"

She shook her head, face pale as she forced a smile. "It's nothing," she assured him, hopping onto the narrow ledge and pulling the window closed but leaving a crack.

"Belle---" he argued.

"I'm fine," she told him with a falsely bright smile. "Anyway, can you get me off here? It makes me nervous . . ."

He looked like he still wanted to argue with her. Instead he scooped her into his arms and vaulted off the ledge back onto the top of the building. Setting her on her feet, he reached for the bottom of her nightshirt. "Kichiro," she warned as she stepped back. "What are you doing?"

He snorted. "Feh! What do you think I'm doing?" he demanded.

She sighed. "I'll show you," she agreed, "just take me home, okay?"

"Home?" he echoed.

She smiled. "Yeah, home."

"Tell me what happened."

Belle nodded. "I will, as soon as we get home."

Her answer wasn't completely satisfactory, but he gave in with a jerk of his head and carefully picked her up again.

It only took about ten minutes to get to his house via the rooftops. Faster than cars or any other conventional method, it was the path he normally used to take Belle to or from the apartment. He didn't slow down till he reached the porch of his house, and he didn't put her down until he'd shouldered his way inside and turned on the light.

Casting her an almost belligerent expression, he knelt before her and slowly pushed the hem of the shirt up. "What the fuck?" he bellowed, holding the shirt out of the way with one hand and tracing the huge bruise on her hip with his fingertips. "How the hell did this happen?"

She winced and sighed, slowly shaking her head. "I fell in practice today. It wasn't a big deal. I'm fine."

"It wasn't a---Belle! This is a serious bruise!" He stood up and pointed at the hallway. "Go lie down, Belle. I'll get you some ice."

"You're making a big deal out of nothing," she insisted.

He pointed at the hallway again. Belle rolled her eyes but stomped away. Moments later, she heard the rumble of Kichiro digging ice out of the bin to make an ice pack for her. She was pulling the deep violet comforter up when he strode into the room. "Here," he said, thrusting the pack under her nose before turning on his heel.

"Kichiro! Where are you going?" she demanded, dropping the ice pack onto the comforter as she started to rise.

"It was that baka brother of mine, wasn't it? Damn it, I'm going to kill him!"

She caught his hand and tugged hard to stop him. "It was my fault, now stop it!"

"Belle, he _hurt_ you!"

"It was my own fault, I said! Your father had just lectured me about being on guard at all times, and I wasn't paying attention. You see?"

"No! What I 'see' is that my fucking brother knows better! We've been training with Gin for years! He knows that he has to be careful, and he wasn't careful with you!"

He jerked his arm away. Belle caught it and hung on. "Kichiro! No!"

"Belle, damn it---"

"Listen to me! What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going to go over there and beat his ass!"

"No! Please! If you go . . . If you go, I'll go home. I'll call a cab, and I'll go home."

He growled low in his throat, counting to twenty before he dared to speak. "Running home to Daddy? Fine! Get it out of your system now, princess, because once we're mated---"

"I won't stand by and watch you get into a fight with your twin brother---not over me!"

The upset in her expression stopped him, and Kichiro sighed. "Belle, he _hurt_ you. Do you get it?"

"Not on purpose, and he was sorry. Your father already raked him over the coals for it. It's okay."

"No, it's not. You're going to be my mate. I don't care how he feels about you, but he will respect you."

"You can't fight him."

He snorted. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a lover, not a fighter. Damn it, Belle---"

"No. You can't fight your brother. Kichiro, he's your family."

"And my family fights all the time. It won't be a big deal, and I'd bet Ryomaru's wondering when I'll show up, anyway."

"Please," she said, her voice dropping to a breath above a whisper. "I've never had a family; just Daddy . . . your family accepted me. I don't want to be the cause of a fight."

He sighed. There wasn't really any arguing with her, was there? "Okay," he agreed. "But I'm going to call and let him know what I thought of it, and you're not arguing me out of it."

Belle nodded. "Okay. No physical fighting, right?"

He didn't want to give in, but the stricken look on her face was more than enough to convince him. "All right," he said. "No physical fighting. Now will you go lie down?"

She kissed his cheek and headed back toward the bedroom. Kichiro heaved a heavy sigh and pulled the cell phone out of his pocket.

"Izayoi," Ryomaru answered.

"What the hell did you do to my mate?" Kichiro growled.

Ryomaru snorted. "I figured I'd be hearing from you."

"Damn it, Ryo . . . she looks like you tried to kill her!"

"She said she was fine."

"Well, she's not."

"I didn't mean to," he shot back. "If you want to have a go at me, just bring it, baby brother."

"I promised her I wouldn't fight with you over her, but this isn't finished, Ryo."

"Look, I'm sorry. I thought she was paying attention, and I tried to stop before I hit her."

"You _tried?_ That isn't good enough, damn it! You never think, do you, Ryo? At least not when it matters! How you've managed to make it this long is beyond me! Stay the hell away from her, do you hear me? Keep away from Belle, or I swear I'll tear you apart."

"Fine," Ryomaru bit out. "Whatever you say. Train her your damn self. Oh, wait! You already tried and couldn't, could you? Feh!"

Kichiro stared at his cell phone long after Ryomaru hung up. Somehow, he just didn't feel like he'd won that round; not at all . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain pulled Gin close and stifled a yawn.

"I had a good time today," Gin ventured softly.

"Mm," he muttered.

"No, really. Thank you."

He nodded. "Any . . . time . . ."

"You're really tired, aren't you?"

"Little."

Gin was quiet a moment. "You're normally not so tired," she mumbled.

Cain forced his eyes open and sat up a little. "It took a lot out of me today."

She frowned. "What did?"

"Transforming." Chuckling at her puzzled expression, Cain pushed her bangs out of her face. "When I take my youkai form, when I'm not angry, I have to concentrate to hold it. It makes me tired. That's all."

"Oh . . . but you . . . you did that for me . . ."

"Gin, it's okay. I wanted to."

She shook her head. "Can I ask you why?"

Cain shrugged. "Easy. I wanted to make you smile."

"Cain . . ."

Wincing when her ears drooped, he sat up and flicked on the lamp. "Tell me what's bothering you?"

"Nothing."

"Gin . . ."

She sat up, hands clasped in her lap as she scrunched her shoulders in a helpless sort of gesture. "I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do," he told her gently. "This . . . _thing_ between us . . . It's been there since I told you about Isabelle."

"I---"

"Don't keep stuff from me to save my feelings. Do you . . . do you want me to go?"

She shook her head. "No . . . no. I just . . . I . . ."

"Is it so bad?"

"I keep wishing . . . I wish I were her. Is that stupid? I keep feeling like I'm just not good enough, and I know what you've said, but . . ."

"Baby girl . . ."

"It's not a contest, right? Because a contest . . . well, the competitors both have a chance of winning, and I . . . I never really have. She won a long time ago, didn't she? That's how it should be," she said with a sad little laugh. Cain winced. Gin shook her head. "She was your mate. I just can't help it. I find myself thinking that I wish she'd never . . ." She swallowed hard as a single tear slid down her cheek. With a sniffle, she wiped away the tear and tried to smile. "But then I hate myself because, well, that's selfish . . . really, _really_ selfish . . ."

"You, selfish? It's not true. You were never meant to be Isabelle, and she was never supposed to be you. You're two different women. You aren't meant to be anything alike. Do you understand that? Do you see?"

"But you loved her."

He sighed. "I loved her."

"Of course you did. She was your mate, and I . . . I'm . . . I'm . . . your friend? Your student? Your lover?"

"Can you be all of those?"

She nodded and let him pull her close. "For you, I can." Drawing a ragged breath as she clutched his arm, she closed her eyes. "What'll I do when you leave? What'll I do when you're gone?"

Her fear clawed at him, brought foreign moisture to his eyes as he held her close. She didn't cry, but he could feel the heaviness of her aura. "Gin . . . If you need me . . . as long as you need me . . ."

"As long as I need you?"

". . . Yeah."

He was leaving it all in the tiny hands of the diminutive woman in his arms. Cain closed his eyes, hoping---praying---that she understood; that she'd make the right choice.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_My Father-in-law is doing well, even if he isn't in the greatest shape. Thanks for your thoughts, etc. As everything is pretty much day to day there, I may or may not update as per usual_.

* * *

**_Final Thought from Gin_**:

… _As long as I need him _… ?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	71. Debauchery

**_Chapter 71_**

**_Debauchery

* * *

_**

"Your brother?"

Kichiro wrinkled his nose and shrugged. "Do-able but unlikely. He's probably still ticked off at me over the other night, and even then, I think he'd just come in to laugh at us."

Belle nodded. "Your cousin?"

"Toga? Hmm . . ." he considered but nixed that idea, too. "Toga would derive much too much enjoyment out of it, I'd say."

"Your father?"

"Bite your tongue, wench. If I called the old man, there's a good chance Mama would find out, and I don't think she'd be amused, in the least."

"Well, we can't call Daddy, and Gin wouldn't be able to keep it from him . . ."

"Oi, good idea . . . let's call Daddy . . ."

Belle tossed a small wad of paper at him. He reacted on impulse, catching the bit in his mouth before spitting it out with a scowl. "You don't know where that paper's been," he grumbled.

"So why did you catch it?"

Fighting back the hot blush that rose in his cheeks, he shrugged. "I don't know. Call it instinct."

"Really?"

He narrowed his gaze on her. "Don't even think about it," he growled. She dropped the paper in her hand with a giggle. "Anyway, let's see . . ."

"What about your uncle?"

Kichiro thought that over and nodded. "Yeah, there's no help for it. I guess that means he's the one." Striding over to the door, Kichiro informed the guard outside that he'd like them to call Sesshoumaru before turning back to grin at Belle once more. "I suppose I should be duly shocked."

"Why's that?"

He chuckled. "Look what you did, princess! I'm a plastic surgeon with a record now."

"It wasn't my fault," Belle contested. "I was being quiet. You're the one who was moaning and groaning."

"What can I say? You're damn good at giving head."

Belle's lips twitched as she tried not to smile. "Do you think he'll be angry?"

"Who? Sesshoumaru? It was funny, if you think about it . . ."

"Well, we _were_ in his fountain . . ."

Kichiro sighed. "True enough, and he's not really known for his sense of humor . . ."

"Will he tell your mother?"

"I'd be more worried that he'd tell your father . . . then again, I rather hope he does . . ."

"Kichiro!" she complained.

"Was it something I said?"

She giggled.

It had begun innocently enough. After having dinner at a quiet little restaurant near the Inutaisho Corp building, they'd decided to go for a walk. Belle had exclaimed over the huge fountain in the middle of the plaza in front of his uncle's building, and before Kichiro knew it, she'd had him pushed up against the fountain, standing in the water, and she was kneeling in front of him with his pants open and her mouth doing things to him that made him want to holler . . .

Blast the security guards who must have overheard Kichiro's quiet moans---at least, he had tried to be quiet. They'd called the police, and in a sting worthy of a major motion picture, the couple was hauled into the police station where they waited for someone 'responsible' to pick them up. Kichiro had been ticketed for indecent exposure while Belle had been pegged with lewd and lascivious behavior . . .

The door opened and an officer strolled in, eyeing both Kichiro and Belle with a rather bored expression. "Inutaisho-san is here to pick you two up. Follow me."

Kichiro leaned toward Belle. "Whatever you do, act sorry."

"Are you sorry?"

"Not really."

She giggled. "Me, either."

"Yeah, well, just don't tell _him_ you're not sorry, okay?"

"Gotcha."

True to form, Sesshoumaru didn't look impressed as Belle and Kichiro followed the officer into the lobby. Dressed in a plain white shirt and black dress pants with his collar unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up, he scowled at his nephew as Kichiro struggled to keep from laughing out loud.

The tai-youkai said nothing as he led the couple out to the waiting sedan. Kichiro held the rear passenger door for Belle and slipped into the seat after her as Sesshoumaru strode around the car to the driver's side.

Pulling into the late night traffic, he didn't say a word. Belle covered her mouth with her hand and turned her face toward Kichiro's shirt, hiding her obvious amusement as her shoulders shook with her silent laughter.

Sesshoumaru shook his head. "I trust you two won't be frequenting my fountain again," he finally admonished.

"It's very pretty at night," Belle managed.

Sesshoumaru sighed. "You realize, Kichiro, I'd expect such behavior out of your twin."

"Yes, Uncle," he answered with a straight face.

"This will be the last time I have to pick up a Zelig for something such as this?"

Belle's eyebrows arched. "Yes, sir," she answered, shooting Kichiro a meaningful glance.

Kichiro nodded. "You sound like you've had to bail out . . . another Zelig . . ."

"Do I?"

Belle leaned forward. "Did you?"

"Perhaps," Sesshoumaru said vaguely.

"Was Daddy the indecent exposure or the lewd and lascivious?"

Sesshoumaru narrowed his gaze.

"Oh, hell," Kichiro grumbled. "That's just . . . _ugh_."

"What's that?"

"Can we talk about something else?"

"What's wrong with that? Daddy obviously had sex, right? If he hadn't then I wouldn't be here."

"I'd prefer to think of you as being the result of Immaculate Conception, thanks."

"Oh? That goes with the goddess idea, doesn't it?"

Kichiro chuckled at Belle's strange way of thinking. "I'll pay you back in the morning," he said, slipping his arm around Belle as she giggled and nuzzled his neck.

"You realize how much it cost to keep this out of the papers?"

"Does your father read the papers, princess?"

Belle shrugged. "Sometimes, but your mother does, doesn't she?"

"Beautiful _and_ smart," he quipped, stroking her hip through the thin cotton dress. "I think I ruined my shoes."

"You got a nice recompense for that."

"That's true . . ."

Sesshoumaru stopped before Belle's apartment building with a heavy sigh. "I think the two of you have seen quite enough of one another for the evening," he remarked when Kichiro made to slip out of the car after Belle.

Kichiro shot his uncle a little grin. "Think so? I don't think I've seen as much of her as I need to. Thanks."

The tai-youkai narrowed his gaze a little more. "You're not sorry in the least, are you?"

Kichiro grimaced. "Uncle, she was giving me really fantastic head, and I was about ready to---"

Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes, curling his top lip as he waved at the open door. "Get out, you miscreant. If you're arrested again tonight, don't call me, and stay out of my fountain."

"Yes, sir," Kichiro said, struggling to hold a bland expression. Belle giggled and grabbed his hand. Both waved as Sesshoumaru gunned the engine and sped off into the night.

"He didn't seem pleased," Belle mused.

"You don't think so?"

"Do you think it's true?"

Kichiro glanced up at the apartment building and sighed. "Think what's true?"

"About Daddy, of course!"

"Uh . . . you just had to remind me about that, didn't you?"

"You know, I was thinking," Belle went on, ignoring Kichiro's protests.

"'Bout what?"

He pulled her into the alley beside the building and peeked over his shoulder to make sure they wouldn't be seen. Slipping her arms around his neck as he swept her into his arms, Belle didn't seem to notice that he'd vaulted into the air to light on the roof. "Well, Daddy and Gin are really close, right?"

Kichiro snorted. "Do we have to talk about them?"

Belle nodded seriously and sat down with her back against the short wall around the perimeter of the roof. "Yes, we do."

"Oh, balls . . ."

Arching her eyebrows at his choice of swear words, Belle giggled and shook her head. She patted the roof beside her, and seeing no way around the discussion she obviously wanted to have, he sat with a sigh and slumped against the retaining wall. "All right, since you're dead-set on killing the mood for the night . . ."

"Well, think about it: if Gin and Daddy became mates, our troubles would be over."

"Feh! Yours, maybe. Mine would just be beginning. You know, right? There's a relatively good chance that my old man will maim me when he finds out I've known about this."

"Daddy makes Gin happy, and Gin makes Daddy want to live; I know it. If they're happy, and they're together, your father will be happy, too."

"And you came to this conclusion, _how?_"

Belle shrugged. "All fathers want their daughters to be happy. I'm sure your father is the same."

"You do like to live in denial, don't you? Listen, princess, my father will kill me; end of story. Whether Gin's happy with your father or not, I'll still be dead, and you'll be dead, too, I'll remind you. You're my mate, after all."

Belle wrinkled her nose as she crawled between Kichiro's outstretched legs. Turning her body so she could toy with the buttons on his shirt, she shook her head, and he had a feeling she was completely discounting his concerns. "But InuYasha likes me."

"Okay, then he'll just leave enough life in me to keep you alive."

"I think you're blowing this way out of proportion."

"Speaking of 'blowing' . . ."

"In a minute . . . I was just thinking . . . Do you think Daddy and Gin have had oral sex?"

"Oh, kami, Belle! Are you trying to kill my sex-drive completely?"

"Gin's old enough, you know. Stop freaking out about the idea of her being sexually active."

"She's hardly the problem," he grumbled. "As much as I hate the idea of her being . . . sexually active . . ."

"Then what _is_ the problem?" Belle murmured, nuzzling Kichiro's neck.

He snorted. "It's your father. How the hell old is he, anyway?"

Belle sighed as she sat back, brow furrowing as she considered his question. "I think he's nearly two-hundred eighty-three . . . Good thing we never had birthday cake. He'd have to call the fire marshal."

"Oh, that's just wrong," he muttered. "Just the thought of your father's old balls anywhere near Gin---"

"Old balls?" Belle echoed. "My father's balls aren't old!"

"The hell they're not! I'd say nearly three-hundred years constitutes old balls . . . can he even use them anymore?"

Belle rolled her eyes. "Well, they worked perfectly eighteen years ago," she pointed out reasonably. "I'd say that they're in fine working order."

Kichiro made a face. "Why are we talking about your father's fucking balls?"

"You brought them up," she reminded him. "Wow, I could _so_ make a gay joke right now . . ."

"Oh, _hell!_"

"Relax, Dr. Crankypants. I'm sure Daddy's balls will make your sister very happy, and---"

"I'm not hearing this . . ."

"---And even if they were a _little_ out of practice, all it takes is the right encouragement---"

"I think I'm going to be sick . . ."

"---You know, some tender loving care . . . maybe a nice little squeeze---"

"I _know_ I'm going to be sick . . ."

"---Just a little somethin'-somethin' to grease the gears, if you know what I mean."

"Stick a fork in me, wench. I'm done. Hope you're not wanting sex for the next hundred years or so. I think I've been permanently brain-damaged . . ."

Belle laughed. "But if they were together then I could tell Daddy, and I wouldn't worry that he'd take it badly."

Kichiro sighed. "I can't believe I'm going to ask this, but . . . do you have any ideas?"

Belle scowled and shook her head. "They need to have sex . . ."

"Ugh . . ."

"Seriously, Kichiro! Sex is a beautiful thing."

"Not any more . . ."

Belle giggled. "Maybe I should just give Daddy a condom."

Kichiro choked. "I'm not hearing this . . . I really am not hearing this . . ."

"Well, it stands to reason. He's had sex before, and with a little luck, he'll have it again."

Kichiro rolled his eyes and snorted. "Well, hell, then why don't you just pop a few holes in the damn thing? Then they'll be mated, too, and---"

"That's a _terrible_ idea!" she interrupted, poking Kichiro's chest as she shook her head and scowled. "Tricking them into becoming mates would be a horri---Do you think it would work?"

"Well, it might, but---What the---? No!"

Belle heaved a sigh. "You're right. That'd be way too sneaky, wouldn't it? It was a nice thought though . . ."

'_You know, Kich, you could do that . . . then you wouldn't have to worry about her telling dear ol' Daddy_ . . .'

'_Hush, you! It's a terrible idea_.'

'_Sure it is, but you know it'd work_.'

'_Damn straight it'd work. . . . a few pokes of a needle, and_---'

'_Oh, balls, you're _considering_ it! You _dog!'

'_Not seriously! Shut up, will you? And stop saying 'balls' . . . it's got a whole new level of nastiness, thanks . . . ugh_ . . .'

"Why does it have to be so complicated?" Belle asked quietly, her amusement dying away as the sound of her laughter faded.

"It's all right, Belle," he said, grimacing as her darkened eyes met his. "I won't lie. I want to be with you. I've been tempted to tell your father, myself, but . . ." he trailed off and shook his head. "I want you to be happy, too. If it makes you happy to wait for the right time, then so be it."

"Kichiro . . ."

He sat back and pulled Belle against his chest, staring up at the sparse stars dotting the night sky. "You're going to tell him, right? Sometime?"

"Soon," she promised, snuggling against his chest. "The next chance I get."

He sighed and smiled. "That's good enough for me."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Sesshoumaru_**:

… _and InuYasha thought Toga's calendar was bad_?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	72. Double Trouble

**_Chapter 72_**

**_Double Trouble

* * *

_**

Belle stretched and yawned as she wandered out of her bedroom, heading for the kitchen to see what she could scrounge up to eat. She'd sat on the roof with Kichiro all night. He was just getting ready to carry her down to her window when the electric blue light had zipped below them. Belle had almost laughed out loud at the contradicting emotions that had surfaced on his face. Caught between irritation that her father had obviously spent the night in Gin's apartment and relief that she wouldn't be missed, Kichiro had looked completely befuddled, and she thought it was adorable.

Shortly after crawling through the window and saying goodbye to Kichiro, she heard the apartment door open and close, and she figured her father was going back over to Gin's.

"What the . . .? Why do you smell like that damn Dr. Dingaling?"

Belle squeaked out a surprised gasp and whipped around to face her father. "Daddy! You're here!"

He shook his head and scowled at her. "I _live_ here. Where else would I be, Bellaniece?"

Wisely choosing not to comment on her father's whereabouts the night before, Belle shrugged and kissed his cheek, laughing softly as he grimaced and wrinkled his nose. "I went dancing with him last night," she reminded him. "I was too tired to take a shower . . ."

Cain looked dubious at best but let the topic drop as he watched Belle retrieve a bottle of juice. "Got any plans today?"

"Do you?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I was going to help Gin with a few of her assignments, but she'll probably be gone all day . . ."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She came by earlier. Her cousin's mate's in labor, so she went to the hospital."

"Sierra?"

Cain's suspicious expression darkened but he nodded. "I guess so . . . getting friendly with them, are you?"

She grinned. "I've talked with them a few times," she hedged. "She's not supposed to have the baby yet, is she?"

"She's a little early, I guess." He rubbed his chin and raised his eyebrows. "She's at the hospital. She'll be fine . . ."

Not for the first time, Belle had to wonder just what her father was thinking when he spoke of women having babies. He always looked so pensive, and in that moment, she knew. "Mom died having me, didn't she?"

Cain looked surprised then sighed. "Yeah, she did."

"I thought so."

"I'm sorry, Bellaniece."

Belle tried to smile. "It's not your fault, Daddy. I doubt Mom blamed you."

His gaze fell away from hers, and she hugged him, sensing the rise of his turbulent emotions. "Bellaniece . . ."

"You're the best daddy in the world, did you know?" She leaned back as her smile brightened. "Why don't we spend the day together? Just you and me . . . like we used to?"

Cain smiled slowly and nodded. "I'd like that. You sure you have time for an old man like me?"

She grinned. "Absolutely. You're my daddy. I _always_ have time for you."

Cain rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose again. "Good. Now go wash that stench off, will you?"

Belle laughed and kissed his cheek again before hurrying off to the bathroom.

She'd planned on spending the day with Kichiro, and as much as she loved spending weekends with him, the memory of the sadness in his gaze lingered. Grabbing her cell phone and dialing his number, Belle shuffled through her closet for the dress she wanted to wear.

Kichiro would understand, or so she hoped. Today was _the_ day. Gathering her determination as the voicemail greeting began; Belle drew a deep breath and bit her lip. She belonged with Kichiro; she belonged by his side.

'_I'll tell Daddy today_ . . .'

* * *

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* * *

Gin peered over the top of her sketchbook and bit her bottom lip as she stared at Sesshoumaru before turning her attention back to the paper before her. Since one of the assignments she'd missed was to sketch a person who wasn't posed, she figured her uncle would make a good model since he didn't move around as much as one of her brothers.

They'd all been waiting for hours. It was nearly two in the afternoon, and there had still been no word since early in the morning when Toga had emerged from Sierra's room to tell them that everything was going well before he hurried back to his wife.

Gin smiled. It was almost sad, really. Her level-headed cousin normally took everything in stride. While he had seemed calm enough, she hadn't missed the trace worry in his gaze, and for some reason, the expression reminded her of Cain and the story he'd told her about Isabelle.

'_Come on, doll. Do you really want to think about that right now?_'

Gin frowned at the paper. '_Not really_.'

'_This is Toga and Sierra's day, you know. Everyone will be fine, and in the end, they'll have a beautiful little girl!_'

'_I know_.'

'_You know, right? Cain didn't tell you that story to upset you. He told you because he wanted you to understand, and because he needed to tell someone after all these years_.'

'_I'm glad he told me. I'm glad he trusts me. I just wish _. . .' Gin shook her head. '_Ah, I don't even know what I wish for anymore_ . . .'

Peering over long enough to intercept her father's golden-eyed stare, she forced a smile at him and quickly looked away, trying to ignore the feeling that he knew what she was doing, what was going on in her head.

'_It's the perfume, Gin. Your father's not stupid. He's been giving you that look all day._'

Wrinkling her nose, she pressed her lips together and sighed. '_What else could I do? Kich said that I'm starting to smell like Cain, right? That would just open another can of worms. Besides, the perfume isn't that bad_.'

No, it wasn't that bad. It actually smelled nice. The trouble was that InuYasha as well as the rest of their noses were all sensitive enough for the fabricated aroma to be more than a little noticeable. Truthfully, she'd have worried more if her father didn't act like he smelled it at all, but he also hadn't said one word to her about it, either, and that was enough to set Gin's nerves on edge. Her father wasn't known for beating around the bush, so if he wasn't saying anything at all, just what was he thinking?

Kagome sat down beside her, leaning to the side to look at Gin's sketch. "That's good."

"Thank you."

"Gin? Are you feeling all right?"

Gin glanced at her mother and nodded quickly. "Yes, of course."

"You're sure?"

She nodded again. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Kagome smiled. "You seem a little thinner."

"I don't think so . . ."

Kagome looked worried but seemed to accept her answer. "Okay . . . Is there a reason you're wearing perfume?"

Gin forced a happy grin, prayed that her mother wouldn't be able to see through it. "I liked it. I thought it was pretty . . ."

"With your sense of smell? It doesn't bother you?"

She shook her head. "No, not at all," she lied since the perfume was starting to get to her. As subtle as it was, it was still perfume, and the constant smell was starting to give her a headache.

"You know, I could use a cup of tea. Why don't you come with me?"

Gin closed her sketchbook and stood up, following her mother out of the waiting room and down the flight of stairs to the small cafeteria. Kagome didn't speak as she bought tea for the two of them. Handing Gin a ceramic cup, she gestured at an empty table toward the back of the sparsely crowded area.

"This is nice," Kagome said, smiling at her daughter as Gin sat down across from her.

Gin blinked and scrunched up her shoulders. "What is?"

Kagome giggled. "This . . . having tea with my only daughter . . . You've been quiet lately, Gin."

"I have?"

Her mother nodded. "Yeah." She sighed and shook her head, smiling a little sadly as she sipped her tea and set the cup down. "I won't ask if something's bothering you. There comes a time when mamas can't fix things for their daughters, even if they wished they could, but you know, your father and I love you."

"I know. I love you both, too."

Kagome suddenly laughed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Gin frowned. "Mama?"

Kagome waved her hand dismissively. "I'm sorry, Gin. I'm not laughing at you. It's just that sometimes when I look at you; when I see certain expressions on your face . . . You used to look just like that, you know, when your brothers took off without you. I get the feeling that whatever you've got on your mind is a little more serious than your brothers ditching you, isn't it?"

"I . . ."

She sighed. "I figured as much . . ."

"I'll be okay," Gin replied, guilt riddling her insides as she tried to make herself look at Kagome. As much as she wanted to, she just couldn't do it, and her mother was far too perceptive not to notice that, too.

Kagome laughed softly, leaning forward to give Gin's hand a quick squeeze before she sat back again. "I think about the little girl you used to be, and then . . . I try to remember that you're just not a little girl anymore. Sometimes it's easier to remember than others."

"Sometimes I wish I was," Gin murmured, staring into her tea as she turned the mug in her hands. "Sometimes I wish . . . Mama? Can I ask you something?"

If Kagome noticed the gathering moisture in Gin's eyes, she didn't comment. Gin blinked quickly as Kagome smiled her encouragement---the same smile Gin had seen so often over her lifetime. Gentle and kind and never judgmental, how often had Kagome listened to Gin's inane babble, and how often had she just smiled when, looking back, Gin knew that she had to have tried her mother's patience more than once over the years? "Of course."

Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, to find a way to ask her question without giving too much away, Gin sighed and shook her head, ears flattening against her skull for a moment. Kagome didn't press her. As though she understood that Gin was struggling, she sipped her tea and waited. "Papa loved someone before you, right? Kikyou . . ."

"He did."

"He made a promise to her?"

Kagome nodded slowly. "Yes."

Gin nodded, too, gaze intent on her steaming tea. "How did you convince him to stay? How did you make him want to live?"

Sighing softly, Kagome sipped her tea again and cleared her throat as her enigmatic little smile faded. "I didn't. He chose it, himself."

Gin's eyes flashed up to meet her mother's, and she frowned at the sadness that touched the depths of Kagome's stare. "I don't understand . . ."

"Gin, I came back to my time, and I thought that your father had chosen Kikyou. In fact, I never really thought that I stood a chance because, well, Kikyou died for him, in a way. I came home, and I made a wish to bring Kikyou back to life for him. When I did that, the well closed, and I was made to forget your father. Midoriko thought it would be kinder, for me to go on with my life without the reminder . . . He wanted to be with me, and I . . . I never knew because he never told me." Kagome drew a deep breath and finally smiled again. "So Kikyou opened the well. Your father came through, and after awhile, I remembered. Thing is, it was his choice."

"I see."

"Funny thing about that," Kagome went on as though she hadn't heard Gin at all. "There is no concrete right or wrong choices. Some are worse than others, granted, but in the end, it's up to you to decide what's best, even if it is something that you think is a mistake later. I trust the daughter I've helped to raise. You were a beautiful gift for your father and me, and I don't think there has ever been a day that goes by when I don't thank kami for you and for your brothers."

Swallowing hard, she shook her head, tried not to think too hard about the future and about things that were not hers to control. "I'm scared, Mama," Gin whispered, swatting away a single tear that slipped down her cheek.

"Scared of what?"

Gin sniffled as her mother dug a tissue out of her purse. Gin dabbed her nose and licked her lips, shaking her head as she forced down the thickness that had formed in her throat. "Of letting you and Papa down . . . especially Papa . . ."

"Oh, Gin, your father . . . He'll adore you, no matter what you do. He might not like something you choose, but that doesn't mean he'll ever think you let him down. As for me? Don't you know that the only way you could ever let me down would be if you didn't follow your heart? Remember, just because something might not be right for your father or for me doesn't mean it isn't the right choice for you."

Kagome finished her tea and smiled as she stood up. "I'm going to go see if there's any word yet. Think about what I said?"

Gin nodded and leaned against Kagome as her mother hugged her. "Thanks, Mama."

"Any time."

Gin sighed and started to lift the cup to her lips as her mother started away. Kagome stopped and turned back, her smile returning as an impish light danced in her eyes. "Oh, and Gin? The perfume should hide Zelig-san's scent from your father quite nicely."

She nearly dropped the mug as Kagome laughed and hurried away. Setting the ceramic cup down before it slipped out of her hand, Gin grimaced and sighed.

"_Remember, just because something might not be right for your father or for me doesn't mean it isn't the right choice for you_ . . ."

What did Kagome mean? Gin sniffled again.

"_Follow your heart_ . . ."

'_Follow my heart?_'

'_Your mother's not stupid, Gin. She might know you better than anyone else. Maybe that was her way of telling you that you should do what you need to do_.'

Gin finished her tea and stood up, depositing her mug in the dish cart near the kitchen doors. '_Do what I need to do, huh . . . for Cain_.'

'_And for you_.'

Nodding slightly as she headed for the restroom to rinse her face before joining her family again, Gin mulled the words over and over in her head.

"_Remember, just because something might not be right for your father or for me doesn't mean it isn't the right choice for you_ . . ."

She had a feeling that Kagome was talking about much, much more than Gin's feelings for Zelig Cain.

A sudden, savage desire to see him gripped Gin, and she stumbled into the mercifully empty bathroom. Why did she feel like he was slipping away? Why did she think that he would disappear whenever she couldn't see him?

Rinsing her face in the tepid flow of water, she tried to brush the irrational feeling aside.

"_Gin . . . If you need me . . . as long as you need me_ . . ."

'_But, Cain, don't you see? Needing you . . . it's more than that. Without you, I'd _. . .' Ending her thoughts abruptly, Gin dabbed her face dry on a scratchy paper towel. '_That's his choice, though. It wasn't ever meant to be mine . . . As long as he never, ever knows . . . That's my choice, isn't it? It's the only one I have to make_ . . . '

* * *

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* * *

"Thanks," Belle said as Cain handed her an ice cold soda. He sat beside her and broke the seal on a bottle of water as the two watched the children playing in the park. "Today has been terrific."

"Yeah, it's been nice," Cain agreed.

Belle shot him a sly glance as her smile widened. Cain intercepted the look but didn't comment. Bracing himself for the teasing that he knew was on his daughter's mind, he didn't have to wait long for it. It just surprised him that he hadn't heard it sooner. "Daddy . . . tell me: what's _really_ going on with you and Gin?"

"I don't know what you're---"

"I'm thrilled, by the way. Gin's really nice. I'm glad you found her."

Cain grimaced and sighed. "You think so?"

"If she makes you happy, does it matter what I think?"

"You think it wouldn't?"

She shrugged. "I'm glad you worry about me, but honestly it's entirely your choice. You know, Daddy, I don't think I remember you ever being so happy before. I love seeing you this way."

"We're just friends, Bellaniece."

"Sure you are. Does Gin know that?"

Cain slowly let out his breath, cheeks tinged pink as he avoided his daughter's scrutiny.

"_I could explain things to Bellaniece_."

"_But do you want to? You don't have to . . . I . . . I understand. Well, sort of_ . . ."

"_It isn't about wanting to, and you don't have to try to understand_."

"_It's okay. You could . . . you could come over to my apartment, couldn't you? After Bellaniece goes to sleep?_"

"_Gin, don't make it okay for me to hide you_."

"_I'm not. I just don't want you to feel like I've ever expected more from you than you can give. Bellaniece should come first. She's your daughter_."

The memory faded, leaving a bitterness in Cain's mouth. Just why did Gin have to be understanding? Why couldn't she have yelled at him or gotten angry at him; at least demanded that he tell Bellaniece? Why didn't she force him to do the things that he didn't want to do? Why did she make it easy for him to put it off, to not have to think about it?

'_You know why, Cain. That's who she is. Do you want her to fuss and argue? Do you want her to tell you that you're a bastard, a monster, for hiding her?_'

'_That's stupid! Of course I don't! Gin_---'

'---_Isn't someone you should ever be ashamed of. She's beautiful and wonderful, and you know it's true. Why _are_ you hiding her? You're making the entire thing uglier than it has to be; uglier than it was ever meant to be. How much are you going to take from her before you give back what she is due?_'

'_What she is due, huh_ . . .' Cain cleared this throat and glanced at Bellaniece. She was watching the children and smiling. "Bellaniece, we need to talk."

She looked startled but covered it with a smile. Heaving a sigh, she nodded and shrugged. "We do," she agreed. "I've been wanting to tell you---"

"It's about Gin---"

"---About Kichiro---Wait, Gin?"

Cain frowned and shook his head. "Kichiro? Dr. Dumbass?"

"Daddy . . ."

He rolled her eyes at her gentle rebuke. "What? I told you; I don't like him."

Belle sighed. "Okay, you go first."

"Hmm, nice try . . . I think you should go first."

Belle stood up and threw away the empty soda can, taking her time fussing with her skirt as she sat back down. Turning just enough to face him, she pressed her palms together like a praying child and pursed her lips. "I like him---a lot."

Cain made a face. "Eww . . . why?"

"Daddy, please . . . He's really much nicer than you think, and he's very smart, and talented, and . . ."

"I'd believe that. He's got a talent for being an ass."

"He's not an ass!"

Cain cocked an eyebrow.

Belle sighed. "He's not _always_ an ass."

"Anyway, sometimes I think he's a lot like you, even."

"Pfft!"

"No, really!" She trailed off and stared at her hands, biting her lip in that thoughtful way of hers. Why did he have the feeling that whatever she was trying to say, there was a good chance he wasn't going to like it? "I think he's kind of my best friend, you know?"

". . . Okay . . ."

Belle laced her fingers together and nervously rolled her wrists. "I was thinking---"

The trill of his cell phone cut Belle off, and Cain nearly ignored it in lieu of what Belle was saying. "Are you going to look to see who it is?" she asked gently.

Cain stared at her for another moment before digging the phone out of his pocket and flipping it open to look at the caller ID. "It's Gin."

"You'd better answer," Belle prodded. "The damsel in distress . . ."

Cain sighed and hit the 'connect' button as he lifted the receiver to his ear. "Gin?"

"Hi," she greeted. He frowned at the weary sound of her voice. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Is something wrong?" he asked, brushing off her concern.

"Not really. I just have a little bit of a headache, is all."

"How's your cousin's wife?"

"Fine, fine . . . they had twins, much to our surprise. Apparently the second baby was really good at hiding during ultrasounds."

"Twins?" Cain echoed. "Wow . . ."

"Yep, two baby girls: Chelsea and Charity. Mother and babies are doing well, Coral and Cassidy are really happy that they won't have to 'share' babies, and my cousin is being teased unmercifully since the others seem to think that he doesn't have it in him to make a son . . . Other than that, it's all done. So what have you been up to today?"

Cain shrugged. "Bellaniece and I were spending the day together."

"Oh? That sounds lovely! I'll let you go, then . . ."

He frowned. "Gin? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just . . . Everyone's going over to Uncle Sesshoumaru's mansion for dinner. I told Mama I'd go, but . . ."

"Do you want me to come get you?"

". . . Would you? I mean, if it isn't a problem . . ."

He smiled. "It's not a problem. I'll be there shortly."

"Okay."

"Bye."

He hung up the phone and grimaced, remembering a moment too late that he wasn't alone. "Bellaniece---"

She laughed. "Go on, Daddy! It's fine! Go rescue the princess, will you?"

He shook his head. "What were you saying?"

Belle waved him away. "We can finish that later. I _want_ to finish it, but you did promise Gin . . ."

"All right," Cain agreed slowly. "I'll be home in awhile."

Belle stood up and hugged him. "Okay, Daddy. I'll leave you a note if I go out."

"You do that," he said. Belle kissed his cheek and strolled down the path, toward the street. They were only two blocks from the apartment building. She'd be safe enough.

Waiting until after she disappeared from view, Cain strode the opposite direction. '_Rescue the princess? But Bellaniece was always my princess_ . . .'

Cain scowled as her words echoed through his head. "_Anyway, sometimes I think he's a lot like you, even_."

What was she trying to tell him? Breaking into a sprint, Cain shook his head. Why did he have the feeling that it was something that he didn't really want to know . . .?

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_Again, FFnet will not allow reviewer responses, so I cannot post any. I'm also dealing with my father-in-law's VERY severe injuries, so trying to make me feel bad in reviews for not answering a question is, unfortunately, something I cannot even deal with at the moment. I do have a real life_.

* * *

**_Final Thought from Bellaniece_**:

_What rotten timing _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	73. Reprimand

**_Lemon warning_**

_This is supposed to be a lemon chapter; however THIS is the 'clean' version of the chapter, for those who don't care for the lime. If you want to read the lime, it isn't posted here. according to their TOS, will not allow the posting of Adult Rated Materials, so if you want to read the lime/lemon, see MY BIO ON MY AUTHOR PAGE. There is a link to my fanfics on Media Miner, where the lemons are posted. If you have trouble, you might have to adjust the settings to see ALL rated fics, as Media Miner is set to default at PG-13_.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

**_Chapter 73_**

**_Reprimand

* * *

_**

Belle grinned as she quietly closed the door and slipped off her shoes in the darkened foyer. It was late, sure, but Kichiro was probably asleep, and surely he couldn't fault her for wanting to see him.

'_I missed him_.'

'_Yeah, but you do realize that there's a good chance that Kichiro will be madder than hell_ . . .'

'_He won't be mad at me! Why would he be?_'

'_Because it's two in the morning, and he thinks you're home in your own bed_.'

She sighed. True enough, she supposed. She'd had him take her home early so she could finish her talk with Cain. Too bad Cain was already at Gin's for the night. Though common sense told her that he wouldn't be making another appearance until morning, she'd sat up for him until nearly one on the off chance that he would come home. In the end, though, she figured she might as well give up, but the sight of her empty little bed was just too depressing, and she'd called a cab . . . '_So I'll make sure he wakes up happy . . . I can think of a few things that should do it_ . . .'

'_Yeah, I don't even think the mystical powers of the blow job are going to convince him not to be ticked off about it_.'

'_You worry too much_.'

'_And you don't think nearly enough_.'

Ignoring her youkai voice, Belle slipped through the silent house, smiling as the familiar aura of Kichiro's bedroom surrounded her. '_Sleeping like a baby_,' she mused as she smiled at the hanyou on the bed.

'_What do you expect? You never leave the poor guy alone, do you?_'

'_Oh, stuff! Like he doesn't enjoy himself, too_ . . .'

'_Enjoying or not, Belle, he's not a god. Even Kichiro gets tired_.'

A moment's hesitation washed over her features, and Belle almost reconsidered her plan. '_He does look content, doesn't he? Maybe I should just go back home_ . . .'

'. . . _Or we could just slip in bed with him . . . No one said you couldn't actually sleep when you're here_ . . .'

Belle's smile resurfaced, and she slipped off the thin jacket that barely reached mid-thigh. Cut like a trench coat only shorter, the coat covered enough skin that she hadn't been worried. She hung it on the handle of the closet before carefully slipping between the sheets, savoring the feel of Kichiro's skin against hers.

'_And if he isn't mad about you coming over here in the middle of the night, the idea that you came over in just that jacket? Yeah, that'll do it_ . . .'

'_No one saw anything. Be quiet, will you?_'

The movement was so startling that Belle could only gasp as Kichiro rolled her over, pinning her against the mattress, eyes glowing in the darkness. "Give me one good reason not to beat you, Belle-chan."

Breath caught in her throat as her heart hammered wildly against her ribcage, Belle shook her head slightly, licked her lips as she tried to concentrate on the irritation evident in Kichiro's expression rather than the welcome feel of his naked skin against hers.

"Why would you do that when you could---?"

"In a minute, princess. Now answer me. How did you get over here?"

"Taxi," she murmured, running her fingers up and down his chest.

"Stop that. I'm not done growling at you," he grumbled. "Belle, it's two in the morning."

"Can't you growl at me later? Please?"

"No!"

She sighed as he rolled off her and sat up. "I took a taxi," she said quietly. "I was perfectly safe . . ."

"No, you were perfectly stupid! Don't you get it? I thought you were home. Why didn't you call me? You know I'd have come to get you."

Belle sat up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, smashing her breasts against his back. "But I'm here now, and I'm safe . . ."

"Entirely irrelevant, damn it! Belle, you could have been attacked!"

"In a cab?"

"By the cab driver . . . you don't know!"

"He was a completely boring older man, Kichiro."

"And if he had been youkai?"

She shrugged. "You would have saved me."

"Not if I didn't know you were fucking running around."

"Okay, okay . . . bad Belle . . . I've been duly chastised. Now will you---?"

"Belle . . ."

She sighed and sat back. "Okay. Rant and rave away."

"This isn't a joke!"

"I didn't think it was."

"Then take it seriously."

"Were you awake when I got here?"

He rolled his eyes, glaring over his shoulder at her. "No, I wasn't. I didn't wake up until you crawled into bed with me."

'_At least he doesn't know what you were---or weren't---wearing_ . . .'

'_Be quiet!_'

'_Fine, you're on your own . . . don't get us clobbered, all right?_'

"I just wanted to be with you, to surprise you," she pouted. "If you don't want me, I can go home . . ."

"This isn't about wanting you, Belle. It's about you being safe. Can you understand that?"

"I _was_ safe."

Growling in frustration, he raked his hands through his hair. "No, you weren't! You like to think you are all the time, but you're not! Do you have any idea what I'd do if something happened to you?"

"I wasn't trying to make you worry."

"You're just like Ryomaru sometimes, did you know? He doesn't think, either---at least, not when it matters! Belle, you could have been attacked or worse! You can't take chances like that! You _can't!_"

"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think it was safe," she tried to placate him. "Kichiro, is it so bad that I just want to be here with you?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but she could discern the hint of a blush tingeing his cheeks. "This isn't funny, Belle! This is serious!"

Belle scooted off the bed and stomped over to get her jacket. "Fine . . . you know, I'm not stupid. I didn't walk over here or anything . . . I---"

"Oh, for the love of---tell me you didn't wear _just_ that over here."

Belle jerked on the waist tie. "Yeah, I did."

"_Have you lost your fucking mind?_" he bellowed, shooting off the bed and grasping her shoulders. "That's even worse!"

"I was fine," she assured him again. "I really was . . . I'm not stupid, you know. I---"

"I have doubts about that," he growled, shaking her just enough to cut her off. "If you're not going to take your own safety to heart, then someone has to!"

He grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the bed. Belle tried to pull her hand away but he held on tight. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded as he sat down on the edge of the bed and jerked her closer.

"Something your daddy should have done long ago, I think," he growled.

"Wha---No! Kichiro! No!"

She might as well have been pleading with a deaf man for as much as Kichiro heeded her words. With one quick yank, she stumbled, fell over his lap, the breath forced out of her upon impact. He took the opportunity to trap her arms in one of his hands, trapping her legs between his own. "If you're not going to listen to reason," he gritted out. "Then you're going to listen to something."

The first smack of his hand on her backside was blunted through the thin fabric of the light jacket. What little breath she'd managed to suck in whooshed out of her again as she squealed in outrage. The second and third smacks brought on more of the same. Unfortunately Kichiro must have realized that he still wasn't getting his message across, and before he spanked her again, he tossed the hem of the jacket out of the way.

Sucking in a harsh breath as the sting of his palm exploded on her bottom, Belle whimpered quietly, struggling without much hope of escaping. Humiliation warred with the rioting nerves in the abused area, and she felt tears rising to her eyes.

'_Don't you cry, Belle! Don't you dare!_' she berated herself. '_That's what he wants! If you cry, he wins_ . . .'

Two more swats had her wailing, more out of anger than actual pain. There was a strange emotion underlying it all, but in her outrage, she didn't stop to consider what it meant.

Kichiro sighed and let his hand rest on her bared rear. "All right, wench. You can knock that off now. I know well enough that I didn't really hurt you."

She struggled to get away from him again. He held onto her firmly but gently as his hand started massaging her offended backside. "Don't do that," she squeaked, knowing her face had to be completely crimson and glad that he couldn't see it.

"Do what?"

"_That_," she said, clenching her rear as his hand kept massaging.

"You've been punished, Belle-chan. Promise you'll never do that again?"

". . . I promise," she whimpered, unsure if she were more embarrassed that he'd spanked her or that her body was apparently not getting the message from her brain that she still was upset with him for it.

"You have to be more careful," he admonished gently, relinquishing his hold on her arms and legs only to scoop her up and turn her around, cradling her against his chest. "It's not just about you anymore, you know. What you do affects me, too."

That gave her pause. She hadn't really thought about that, had she? It was true enough. One mate could mean the death of the other, couldn't they? If something happened to her . . . "I'm sorry," she whispered as tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry . . ."

He sighed. "Belle, don't cry . . . You just can't take risks like that, even if you don't realize that you are."

"I'm a bad mate," she sniffled, burying her face against Kichiro's chest. "I was stupid and bad and---"

"I'm glad you came over. Next time, call me, okay?"

She nodded as Kichiro smoothed her hair. "Y-you can sp-spank me again."

"Do you think I enjoyed that?"

"N-no . . ."

"I didn't, but if something happened to you . . ."

She hugged him, nestled closer to him, let him surround her in a feeling of complete and total safety. Still, now that the embarrassment of being spanked had worn off, she had to admit that she really hadn't minded it at all. In fact, she rather . . . liked it . . . the feeling of being completely at his whim; the knowledge that he wouldn't really hurt her, even if he had injured her pride . . . Even in the violence of the perceived act, there had also been a sense of control. He had known that he hadn't really hurt her. He hadn't intended to, and she knew it. "Kichiro?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you . . . _want_ . . . to spank me again?"

He sat stock-still for a moment before pushing her back to look into her face. "Oh, kami . . . you _liked_ it!"

She felt her cheeks heat with a blush but shrugged. "Maybe."

His gaze narrowed incredulously, and he shook his head before barking out a terse laugh. "That was meant to be punishment, you know."

"And I was duly chastised, my mate . . ." She trailed off as she shifted position, straddling him, rising up on her knees as he fell back against the bed.

"I don't think you were," he complained as he stroked her hips, claws drawing goosebumps as she slowly untied the jacket and slipped it off her shoulders. "Damn . . ." he hissed, gaze falling from her eyes to her breasts.

Belle leaned forward to grab a condom off the nightstand. Kichiro caught her, pulled her against him, his lips meeting hers as their bodies collided. Her arm dropped to the coverlet as she moaned softly, as coherent thought shot up in a rampant blaze of desire and heat. His hands slipped around to squeeze her bottom, the already inflamed nerves firing off, one by one. She was vaguely aware of movement. His kisses were too powerful, too consuming, and when he pulled her on her hips, bringing her forward, she gasped as another current of shocking sensation coursed through her.

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

Labored breathing broke the silence as Kichiro rubbed Belle's shoulder. She cuddled against him, savoring the scent of their entwined bodies. Smiling as she struggled to breathe, Belle pressed a kiss on his chest and giggled unevenly when he shuddered.

"I'm glad I came over," she ventured.

He kissed her forehead and sighed. "I am, too."

"I'm sorry I worried you. I thought you'd be sleeping, and---"

"Just call me next time. I'd rather lose sleep and know you're safe."

She leaned up to look at the clock and grimaced. Nearly four in the morning . . . "Will you take me home?"

"Now?"

Belle nodded. "As soon as I shower . . ."

"Yeah, your shower . . ."

She frowned. "Kichiro . . ."

He smiled ruefully as he sat up to remove the used condom. "Can't have you smelling like your mate, can we?"

She shook her head. "It's not like that," she said. "I just---"

"No, it's fine," he cut in. "Don't worry about it."

The look on his face told Belle that he considered the subject closed. She stifled a sigh and drew a deep breath. "I want to be there when Daddy comes back. He wasn't there when I got home, and I really want to talk to him."

Kichiro nodded slowly, and Belle grimaced at the hint of doubt lingering in his gaze.

"I'm going to tell him," she remarked.

"I know you are," he replied.

"No, really, I'm going to tell him about us today."

"There's no hurry, Belle."

She forced a smile as she kissed him again and rolled off the bed, heading for the bathroom. She adored Kichiro for understanding, but the time had come. Every day it felt as though a small part of her was dying, every time he walked her home, only to reawaken when she saw him again. Tired of sneaking around, tired of hiding things, she wanted---_needed_---to tell her father. She owed it to Kichiro . . . and to herself.

'_I'll tell Daddy as soon as he gets home_,' she decided. '_He'll understand . . . I hope_ . . .'

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_This is just a note to let you all know that because I just cannot concentrate on writing at this particular time, I'm going to take a break for a week or two. It's not fair to the story, this half-hearted effort to put out quality writing. It isn't fair to the readers, and it really isn't fair to my family or to me_.

_I don't like to broadcast things, however in this case, so that people might be able to understand just what I'm talking about, I will explain some of this_:

_If anyone's wondering, my husband's dad has to have reconstructive or replacement surgery on his shattered kneecap later this week. They're not too sure if he'll need a new hip or not. He can't have skin grafts yet because of the tissues, and he's got definite nerve damage in his spinal cord that will ensure that he will never be able to walk without the aide of a walker or some such again. They'll have to move as they live in an upstairs apartment, and Dad cannot take stairs anymore, as well. Add this to the two other vehicle accidents of the past few months, and, well, it's just that the 'strong one' (me) is finding herself extraordinarily weary_.

_My husband is going to try again over Labor Day weekend to make the 7 hr drive down to see his father in Nashville. So long as his work doesn't interfere again, he should be able to do this_.

_At this point, the news we get every day just seems to get a little worse every time, and while I love writing and do use it to 'escape' the stress in my life, at this point, I have to make sure that my husband is taken care of_.

_I'll post again when we have more answers. I just can't take the stress over this and then the lesser stress of worrying if my writing is still up to par, worrying about letting down the people who read my stories, worrying about someone leaving a review that I just take the wrong way because I'm just not taking **anything** the right way, at the moment_.

_Thanks, everyone. Take care while I'm 'gone'_ ...

* * *

**_Final Thought from Belle_**:

_Now to tell Daddy _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	74. Fleshwound

**_Chapter 74_**

**_Fleshwound

* * *

_**

Gin lifted her head off Cain's chest and shook her head. "Okay, what's bothering you?"

Scowling at the ceiling, Cain wrinkled his nose and shrugged. "Wh---"

"And don't tell me that nothing's bothering you when you've been acting strange since you came to pick me up."

"Your brother has a habit of irritating me," he grumbled.

Gin grimaced. She'd tried to slip out of the hospital without her family noticing. Unfortunately, Kichiro had taken to watching her like a hawk, and when she spotted Cain outside the building from her perch by the window, he'd followed her down the stairs and to the front doors.

"_Thanks for coming to get me," she said as she stopped in front of Cain_.

_He opened his mouth to say something but stopped and narrowed his eyes. "What the---? Perfume?_"

_Gin shrugged, hoping that her cheeks weren't as hot as she thought they were. "Do you like it?" she asked, twisting her fingers together and hoping that she didn't sound as lame as she thought she did_.

"Like _it?" he echoed as his menacing scowl darkened. "Why are you wearing it?_"

"_I thought it was pretty_."

"_Uh huh_ . . ."

"_You're not about to yell at my sister, are you?" Kichiro asked, stepping beside Gin and glowering at the youkai_.

_Gin gasped softly. She hadn't realized that he'd followed her. Her sense of smell was too overwhelmed by the perfume in question for her to notice anyone else approaching. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one else was about to waylay her, she placed a hand on Kichiro's arm and shook her head just a little. "Everything's fine, Kich_ . . ."

"_Is it_."

_She nodded. "Why wouldn't it be?_"

"_Actually," Cain cut in, his tone clipped, controlled. "I wasn't going to yell at her, no . . . why would I?_"

_Kichiro shrugged offhandedly. "Don't know . . . for the same reason you've yelled at her before, maybe?_"

"_Kich_ . . ."

_He ignored Gin's gentle pleading_.

"_Watch yourself," Cain warned_.

_Kichiro snorted. "Yeah, I won't fall apart if you yell at me, so by all means_ . . ."

_Cain glowered at him for another moment before dropping his gaze to Gin again. "Are you ready?_"

_She nodded, casting her brother a pleading glance. "It's okay, Kich _. . ."

_Kichiro snorted. "You know, can't say I blame her. I'd rather stink of perfume than reek of a bastard like you_."

_Breaking into a low growl as he glared at Kichiro, Cain looked like he was considering mayhem. Gin hurried to his side and tugged his hand. "Come on, Cain . . . Kich is just looking out for me_."

_Cain shoved her behind his back and stepped toward Kichiro. "Because you love her, I won't take offense to what you've said. Take care not to make the same mistake again. I'm not trying to hurt your sister. Get that through your head_."

_Kichiro didn't say anything else as he and Cain glared at one another. Gin grabbed Cain's hand and pulled. "It's okay, Cain . . . Will you take me home now?_"

_He didn't seem to hear her for a moment but finally nodded and let Gin drag him out of the hospital and onto the sidewalk_.

But Cain's irritation hadn't ended then. He hadn't snapped at her, and she wasn't sure if she would really call it 'irritation' quite so much as complete preoccupation that had lasted all evening. Oddly, she had a feeling that it didn't really have anything to do with her. She only wished she knew what was really bothering him. Cain wouldn't say.

"I can tell there's something on your mind other than Kich," she said quietly. "If you talk about it, you might feel better."

Cain sighed and carefully pushed her aside so that he could sit up. "I . . . I'm not sure."

"Not sure?"

He shook his head and stood, pacing the floor with his arms crossed over his chest, prowling restlessly, as though he couldn't help himself. "It's just . . . Bellaniece was trying to tell me something today, I think. I don't know . . . It's just bugging me."

Gin sat up, wrapping her arms around her raised knees. "You could go talk to her."

He shook his head again. "She's sleeping."

"If it's important enough to concern you . . ."

Pacing the floor a few more moment, Cain considered Gin's suggestion. "I don't think I'm going to like whatever it is she was trying to tell me," he confessed.

Grimacing at the almost frightened glance he shot her, Gin tried to smile, to reassure him. "It can't be that bad, could it?"

Cain paused beside the bed and sat back down, reaching out to run his fingertips along her cheek as a tender little smile surfaced. "I feel like I'm losing her, Gin, and I don't know why."

Gin caught his wrist, turned her face to press a kiss to his palm as Belle's words echoed through her head. "_Will you not tell Daddy? I know you and he are close, and I'm glad, but . . . I want to tell him. I owe him that. I've tried to tell him, you know? It's just hard_."

Sitting up and wrapping her arms around her legs, she propped her chin on her raised knees and shrugged. "Then go ask her. She adores you."

Cain hooked his knuckle under her chin and lifted her face, eyes searching the depths of her gaze as he nodded. "You're right. I'm being stupid."

"You're not being stupid."

Brushing his lips over hers, Cain closed his eyes, pulled her close. Gin sighed, hands on his shoulders and let herself forget everything but the feel, the taste of his kiss. He broke it off, leaned his forehead against hers, chuckling softly, seeming to draw strength from her to bolster his flagging spirits. "I'll be back after I talk to her. Is that okay?"

Gin nodded, offering him a quick hug and a smile.

He stood up and stared at her for a moment before dissolving into his energy form and zipping out the window.

Gin lay back down, pulling the covers up to her chest as she rolled onto her side, running her fingertips lightly over her lips. A shiver slipped down her spine, and she smiled. "Cain," she whispered, blinking quickly to stave back the mistiness that gathered in her eyes. She had a good guess as to what Belle had been trying to tell him, and while he might not like it, she knew he would try to understand.

Her smile faded as another thought intruded. '_If Belle tells Cain she's found her mate, he'd be free, wouldn't he? Free to follow Isabelle?_'

'_Maybe not, doll; maybe not . . . Don't dwell on that. Just concentrate on now. As long as you need him, remember? He promised you that_.'

'_He promised me that, but what does it _mean?_ Every day I need him a little bit more . . . every day that goes by _. . .'

Her mother's voice whispered in her head, the words that she wanted to understand. "_Don't you know that the only way you could ever let me down would be if you didn't follow your heart?_"

Gin sighed and buried her face deeper into the pillow. '_My heart_ . . .'

The soft gust of wind announced Cain's reappearance. He spoke before his body had completely solidified again, and Gin sat up, brow furrowing in alarm at the panic evident in his tone. "She's gone. I've got to go find her. Bellaniece is gone."

"Wait," Gin said, lunging toward him to catch his hand. "She's not home?"

"No, she's not. Where the hell would she be? It's the middle of the night!"

"_Oh, yeah . . . he's researching the prevention of actual mating via the use of condoms, and it works. I mean, he says it all has to do with the introduction of semen into the woman's reproductive system, so the condoms prevent that_."

Gin made a face. "Uh . . . Cain . . . maybe you should wait for her."

"What?"

She sighed. "Maybe you should wait for her. I think she's safe."

Shaking his head slowly as he pondered Gin's words, Cain narrowed his eyes as suspicion seeped over him. "Do you know something?"

Gin grimaced. "I . . . um . . . I think Bellaniece should tell you. I . . . promised."

Cain's mouth fell open, and he shook his head. "Oh, God . . . where is she?"

Gin bit her lip and flattened her ears but remained silent.

"I'm not going to like it, am I?"

She tried to smile. It must not have worked because Cain winced.

"It's that brother of yours, isn't it? Damn it, I should have seen that coming . . ."

"Cain, will you give her a chance to explain?"

"Oh, I'm going to kill that self-righteous little---"

Gin got to her feet and hurried to Cain's side before he could take off again. Grabbing his hand, she held on tight. "He's my brother, and he's not a bad guy."

"Depends on your definition of 'bad', baby girl."

Though he looked like he wanted to rip something to shreds, Cain finally sighed and nodded once. "An hour, Gin. If she's not home in one hour, I'm going to kill your brother."

Gin nodded and let go of his hand. Cain rubbed his face and strode out of the room. She heard the front door close moments later, and Gin hurried to find her cell phone. With any luck, she could reach either Belle or Kichiro. She didn't doubt for a moment that Cain really would go after her brother if Belle didn't show up soon . . .

Growling in frustration as she got transferred over to voicemail from Kichiro's cell phone, Gin hung up and tried Belle's number. '_It would help_,' she thought sourly as she snapped her phone closed and dropped it onto the coverlet, '_if people would answer their stupid phones!_'

Reaching for the outfit she'd changed out of before bed, she dressed hurriedly and checked her watch. Nearly four-thirty in the morning . . . If Belle wasn't home by five, Gin would have to see if she couldn't distract Cain somehow . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle swung her legs over the window sill and slipped into the bedroom. Stopping long enough to peek outside, she waved as Kichiro grinned at her just before leaping back onto the roof. With a soft sigh, she stared at her engagement ring, winking at her in the moonlight.

'_He's really something_,' she thought with a grin. '_Bellaniece Izayoi . . . I like that_.'

'_That's not what you told him_.'

She laughed. '_Well, of course not! I have to keep him on his toes, don't I?_'

'_That's just demented_.'

'_Not even you can spoil my mood_,' she shot back, pulling the window closed and twirling around in quick pirouette.

Her stomach growled before her youkai could comment, and Belle sighed but smiled. '_All right, then. Feed us, will you?_'

True enough, youkai didn't really have to eat. Still it was an indulgence that Belle loved far too much to give up. Skipping across the room, she grasped the doorknob and turned it.

"So you _do_ remember where you live."

Belle gasped and squeaked out a sharp little scream as she jumped away from the door---and her very haggard-looking father. "D-daddy . . ."

He sighed, leaning in the doorway, eyes darkened in the murky shadows. "Where were you, Bellaniece?"

She pressed her lips together, trying to think of a way to explain things to her father when the evidence that he had in front of him was damning at best. "I . . ."

"You were with him, right? Dr. Dipshit?"

"Daddy, he's not . . ." Trailing off when Cain lowered his chin, staring through his eyelashes at her in the 'Don't-Lie-To-Me' way that he rarely used with her, Belle nodded. "Yes."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes closed as he sighed once more. "Do I want to know what you were doing over there at this hour?"

"I was . . . umm . . . I . . . lost track of time; that's all!"

"Lost track of time, doing _what?_"

She tried smiling brightly, hoping that she could sidetrack her father. "What are you doing up so early, Daddy?"

"Trying to figure out where the hell my daughter is."

"Oh . . . Well, I'm home now. You should get some sleep. You look really, really tired."

"Bellaniece---"

"Yes, Daddy?"

"I'll ask you one more time: what were you doing with Dr. Dead-man?"

Wringing her hands and trying not to fidget, she grimaced at his choice of wording. "You wouldn't hurt him, would you?"

"Thinking about it."

"But you can't hurt him, Daddy! He's my---"

"Your what?"

"My . . . my . . . my . . ."

Cain's face contorted as he shook his head incredulously. "Oh, God . . . _Ungh!_"

Wincing as Cain's face took on a sickly pallor, Belle nearly whined as she shifted from one foot to the other. "Are you going to faint?"

Cain snorted. "Pfft! Hardly . . . What are your plans with . . . him?"

"I'm his princess," she whispered, gaze dropping to the floor as she waited for her father's tirade to kick into full swing.

"You're his . . .? Do you _love_ him?"

"Yes."

Cain looked completely horrified. "Does he love you?"

"Yes . . . I _think_ so . . ."

"What?"

"I mean, he hasn't really said as much, but he---"

Belle's words were cut off as Cain grabbed her wrist and dragged her along behind him as he strode through the apartment and into the hallway. Stopping before Gin's door, he knocked and glanced at his daughter as Gin opened it, eyes shifting from Cain to Belle and back again. "Watch her. Don't let her out of your sight."

He seemed calm enough. Belle hurried into the apartment and stood behind Gin. All things considered, Cain was taking the news far better than she had expected he would.

"Okay," Gin agreed. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, that's easy," Cain remarked. "I'm going to go murder Dr. Strangelove."

"Who?" Gin asked as Belle gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Daddy, you can't!"

Cain rolled his eyes and turned on his heel to stalk away.

"Was he talking about Kichiro?" Gin asked.

Belle groaned and twisted her fingers nervously. "Yes . . ."

"He wouldn't, would he?" Gin questioned.

Belle bit her lip and shook her head. She wasn't sure. She'd never seen her father like that before. To be completely honest, she wasn't sure what, exactly, he was thinking; not at all . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Cain clenched his fists and drew a few deep breaths as he tried to tell himself that he had to remain calm for Bellaniece's sake. '_She loves him, right? Damn it . . . that sorely limits the mayhem I had in mind_ . . .'

'_We could still maim him. That's not completely out of the question_ . . .'

'_You're not helping_ . . .'

'_I'm being encouraging. That's what a good youkai voice does_.'

Drawing another deep breath, Cain knocked on the door.

'_I can't believe she chose Dr. Ass-monkey_.'

'_For once, we are in complete agreement, Cain_ . . .'

Dr. Ass-monkey opened the door in a pair of black silk boxers, rubbing the shallow vale in the center of his chest as his ears twitched. "Oh, good. Just the person I was hoping was beating on my door at---" he checked his watch, "---five-thirty in the morning."

The low growl that slipped from Cain had nothing at all to do with the belligerence in Kichiro's tone, but had everything to do with the overpowering scent that filled his nose as the doctor opened the door. Kichiro, Bellaniece, and . . . sex . . .

'_Sex? But Bellaniece_---"

"_He's researching the use of condoms to prevent accidental mating_ . . ."

'_Oh, my God_ . . .'

Emanating from the good doctor, the smell was nearly overwhelming, and before Cain could consider his actions, he grabbed the hanyou and threw him against the wall beside the door, head thumping against the building with a loud, if not completely satisfying, thud. Kichiro fell to the ground as Cain cracked his knuckles. "If you're smart, you'll stay down and just nod or shake your head as I ask you questions. Got that?"

Slowly rising to his knees before pushing himself back to his feet, Kichiro didn't take his eyes off Cain. "Yeah, well, smart, maybe. Then again, I'm not afraid of the likes of you."

"What are your intentions with my daughter?"

Kichiro shrugged but didn't retreat. "What did your daughter say?"

"Wrong answer," Gain growled, shoving Kichiro against the wall again, and again Kichiro stood up, though this time a little slower than the first. "I'll ask you again: what are your intentions with my daughter?"

"And I'll ask you again: what did Belle say?"

"She didn't, so I'm asking you."

"And I'm _telling_ you that if you want to know, you'd damn well better ask _her_."

Cain shoved him against the wall again. Kichiro grunted as he forced himself back to his feet. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the scent of the hanyou's blood registered. It didn't lessen the desire to demolish Kichiro Izayoi. "Are you using Bellaniece in your research?"

"Of course I am, and she loves it," Kichiro taunted.

With a growl, Cain grabbed Kichiro with one hand to his throat and slammed him against the wall yet again.

"Are you telling me that you're using my daughter as your guinea pig? You're using her?"

"For a tai-youkai, you really are stupid, aren't you? Not bad enough that you can't quite stop fucking up my sister's life, but you don't pay a damn bit of attention to your own daughter, do you? The research, you ask? That's secondary. What Belle and I do together is none of your fucking business."

Cain let go of the doctor only to swing his closed fist at Kichiro, catching the hanyou square in the jaw and sending him flying back into the wall for the fifth time. This time Kichiro had more trouble getting to his feet. Shaking his head as he blinked to stave back a wave of dizziness, he stood up, wiping a trickle of blood off his split lip with the back of his hand. Cain growled and reached for him again, only to be stopped by two female voices---two female faces---two female bodies. Belle ferreted her way between the two men, pushing her father back with her hands on his chest while Gin planted herself in front of her brother, staring at Cain in something akin to acute rage.

"Daddy, you _hurt_ him!" Belle wailed, the salt of her tears assailing his nostrils.

"Yeah, that was the plan," Cain remarked dryly, trying to push Belle aside. "Get out of the way, Gin."

"No! He's my brother!" Gin hissed as Cain strode toward them.

"Move it, baby girl. This is between that bastard and me," Kichiro insisted though he didn't try to move Gin.

"You're hurt," Gin snarled. "Shut up for once, will you? Both of you are acting like children!"

"Daddy, _please!_ He's _bleeding!_"

Rounding on his daughter, pinning her with an incredulous stare, Cain waved his hand toward Kichiro as he shook his head. "He's been _using_ you, Bellaniece! Doesn't that matter to you at all?"

"No, he isn't," she whispered. "Kichiro . . . you need to tell him."

"Tell me what?" Cain demanded.

Belle winced and swallowed hard. "He's my mate, Daddy. We're going to be married."

Growling as he stared at the engagement ring sparkling on Belle's slender finger, Cain gritted his teeth, unable to trust himself to speak.

Kichiro snorted. "Feh! She's _mine_, old man, you got that? Now get the fuck out of her way. She belongs with me."

"Will you just _shut up?_" Gin hissed. "You're just making it worse."

"Worse? You want worse? Might as well say it, then. We're going to be mates; we're going to be married. What we're not going to do is have any pups."

Cain's growl died as he swung around to face Kichiro. "_What?_"

"Yeah, you heard me. No pups. Ever. Period."

The snarl that erupted from Cain's throat was one borne of pure outrage. "Move, Gin . . . Your brother and I need to . . . talk."

"No, Cain. You've already made your point."

"Oh, I don't think I have . . ."

Belle grabbed his arm again. "It's fine, Daddy . . . We just decided that we want to be each other's family, that's all."

She wouldn't meet her father's gaze, shuffling her feet as she stared miserably at the concrete. "Bellaniece . . . you've always wanted pups . . . ever since I can remember, you've talked about them."

"I . . . changed my mind."

"You _changed_ your mind . . . or did that little shit change your mind for you?"

"It was my choice," Belle mumbled.

Kichiro snorted. "Not everyone is as narrow-minded as you, Zelig. Belle and I talked about it, which is more than I can say for what you've done to Gin."

"Kich, leave it alone," Gin muttered, eyes glowing as she shot her brother a warning look.

"This isn't about Gin and me," Cain growled, pushing Gin aside as he grabbed Kichiro by the throat once more, hefting Kichiro off his feet as Cain shook Gin's hands off his arm gently but firmly. "This is about you and the price my daughter is expected to pay for being your mate."

"It was my choice, Daddy! Put him down! Please!"

He shook Belle off, too. "Fine," Cain said, his voice even, calm. With a blur of movement, Cain sent Kichiro flying off the porch. Landing flat on his back in the middle of the front yard, Kichiro stubbornly pushed himself to his feet again, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. Cain strode down the steps and over to glower at Kichiro as the girls ran over to try to stop the one-sided fight. "You might be the ass my daughter chose, but until you marry her, you can stay the hell away from her."

"If Belle wants to see me, I'll come get her. Back off, Zelig. She's my _mate_."

Cain glowered at Kichiro for another moment before grabbing Belle's wrist and tugging her toward the driveway. "Come on, Bellaniece. You're coming home with me."

"Daddy!" Belle pleaded. "You _hurt_ him! I'm staying here!"

"This is not negotiable."

The obstinate set of her jaw did little to dissuade Cain from his insistence. Belle jerked her arm away from him and stepped back, eyes bright, shimmering in the light of the early morning sun. "No, Daddy," she whispered, shaking her head as tears pooled in her eyes. "I'm staying."

Cain stared at his daughter for several seconds. Unsure what to say to her, what to do, he sighed and shook his head before turning and stalking toward the dirt road.

Kichiro grimaced as he swayed on his feet. Gin slipped her arm around his waist to support him. He glared at her for a moment but didn't try to push her away. The pain in Belle's youki was tangible to him, and despite his desire to keep her right there, he knew deep down that she needed to talk to her father; to try to make things right if she possibly could. "Belle, you need to go. You need to talk to him."

"But---"

He shook his head and forced a smile he was far from feeling. Head throbbing, back aching, split lip stinging painfully, all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and pass out. He couldn't do that; not in front of her. "No, it's fine. I'm fine. Just go on."

She opened and closed her mouth a couple times then finally nodded before dashing after Cain, falling in step beside him.

Kichiro let out the pained breath he'd been holding in, leaning more heavily on Gin for a moment. "You need to go, too."

Gin shot him a look that plainly proclaimed her belief that he'd lost his mind. "You're hurt," she insisted. "Let me help you get cleaned up."

"Please. Don't let him yell at her. Don't let him hurt her because of me."

"Cain wouldn't---"

"Gin . . ."

"Why didn't you dodge him? You've spent years dodging Ryomaru."

"Did you want me to fight back?"

"Not fight, no . . ."

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I thought . . . if he were ticked off at me, maybe he wouldn't be ticked off at Belle."

Gin scowled at Kichiro's reasoning but didn't comment on it. "Will you be okay?"

He nodded. She didn't look like she believed him, but she let her arms drop. "I'll be back to help you. Can you make it inside?"

"Feh! He wasn't so tough," Kichiro grumbled. "Go catch up with them, will you?"

Gin sighed and nodded slowly. "Okay."

Kichiro watched as Gin ran after them. He managed to stay on his feet until they were out of view. Dropping face-first into the grass, he groaned and grimaced as his the pain in his body intensified. '_Just a few minutes_,' he thought as conscious thought became more difficult. '_Lie here for a few minutes, then I'll go inside_ . . .'

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_Not sure when the next chapter will go up. Until then, enjoy this one_.

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

… _Ouch _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	75. Reverberations

**_Chapter 75_**

**_Reverberations

* * *

_**

Belle stood in the center of the living room with her arms crossed over her chest and stared dolefully at her father.

"If you're trying to make me feel bad with that look, it isn't working," Cain stated flatly.

"Daddy, you hurt him," she accused.

"I certainly hope so," he shot back.

She sighed, berating herself for the hundredth time for leaving Kichiro alone. "Daddy, I love him. He's my mate."

Grinding his teeth together, Cain grimaced and shook his head. "Pfft! Can you stop saying that? Just the thought of that little bastard is enough to---"

"He is, you know." She shrugged helplessly. "No matter what you think of him, he's my mate."

"Is this negotiable?"

"No."

Cain stopped pacing long enough to cast his daughter an incredulous glance. "He doesn't _deserve_ you, Bellaniece."

"I think he does. Sometimes I think I don't deserve him."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

She smiled sadly and rubbed her forearms. "He wanted to tell you when we got home from Maine," she confessed, "but I . . . I wanted to be the one to tell you, and then I couldn't . . ."

"Have I ever given you the impression that you can't tell me something?"

Belle winced. "Of course not. I just . . ."

"You just, what?"

"I just . . . I didn't want to hurt you."

Recoiling at the sadness in her expression, Cain shook his head and sighed. The anger seemed to seep away, leaving a sense of regret that was hard for her to swallow. "Can you tell me you'll be happy with someone who doesn't want pups?"

"Yes, I can."

He glowered at her and slowly shook his head. "That's bullshit, and you know it."

"It's not. We . . . we talked about it, and it's just not something that either of us wants," she said, swallowing hard. "Ever."

"Do you think I've never noticed the way you watch children? I've seen you, Bellaniece. You . . . _glow_ . . . when you watch them playing. You've talked about them forever, and now you really expect me to believe that you would be happy never having pups of your own?" He shook his head, looking away from her. "Lie to me if you want. Just don't try to lie to yourself."

Belle grimaced. She knew it was going to be nearly impossible for her to lie about this. Her father knew her too well, didn't he? '_Having children means that Daddy would be free_ . . .' She licked her lips, drawing a breath to steel her flagging resolve. "Just because I love children doesn't mean I want any of my own," she fibbed. "I wouldn't even know how to be a mother."

"What?"

She shrugged in what she hoped was a casual manner. "Well, I didn't have one, right? How would I know how to be one?"

Cain jerked back, his expression registering his shock at her quietly voiced concern, and she winced as his cheeks reddened, as he grimaced and couldn't meet her gaze. "It's instinctive, Bellaniece. You'd be fine."

"Daddy---"

"How long have you been sleeping with him?"

Belle could feel the wash of embarrassed color shooting to the fore. "Since Maine."

The air whooshed out of Cain in a hiss of breath. "Did he go with you just to take advantage of you?"

"No! It wasn't like that. A-a-and you're one to talk! You've been sneaking out to Gin's every night---"

"That's _entirely_ different!"

"How is it different?"

"We're both _adults!_"

"I'm an adult."

"No, you're not! You've never learned how to be on your own! You've never taken care of yourself; you obviously don't know how to make your own decisions---"

"I'm not a little girl anymore! I haven't been one for years! I don't need you to take care of me!"

Cain stopped short, eyes darting up to meet hers. Belligerence met shocked panic, and Cain was the first to look away but not before she saw the hurt in his gaze---the hurt he tried to conceal from her. "I didn't mean---"

"You're right," he murmured, rubbing his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. Uttering a terse laugh, he pursed his lips and shrugged. "You're right."

"Daddy," she began, her voice cracking as she blinked to stave back the tears that rose behind her eyes. His pain was tangible, palpable---the father who was realizing just a little too late that his little girl had grown up.

"You're right, Bellaniece. I must have looked away for a moment, or at least long enough to miss it . . ." He shook his head.

"I---"

He managed a weak smile, and she knew that it was entirely for her benefit. The sight of it broke her heart. "Mates should be together," he said quietly. "He's your mate, right? Mates . . . mates should be together."

"Daddy? Wait . . . but you---"

"You should go to him." She ran toward him. Cain held up his hands to stop her. "You should. Just . . . make sure he knows how precious you are. Make sure he never knows if he ever hurts you . . ."

"Daddy . . ."

He shook his head, his smile widening, breaking her heart just a little bit more. Cain nodded once, eyes brightening as uncannily bright though no tears spilled over. Belle whimpered, hand fluttering over her lips as he turned his back, jamming his hands into his pockets as he moved into the hallway.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I still need you . . . Daddy, please don't . . ."

Stopping before he reached his bedroom door, he sighed and lifted his chin but didn't turn around to face her. "It's fine, Belle. I'll _be_ fine. Don't worry about me."

It took her a minute to realize just what he'd said after he disappeared into his room, closing the door softly behind himself. He'd called her 'Belle', hadn't he? Hearing the shortened form of her name from him . . . why did that hurt more than anything else?

"Daddy!" she gasped, stumbling after him, down the dim hallway, past the menagerie of closed doors. She reached for the door handle and turned, staring in shock as she realized he'd locked her out. "Please, let me in? Daddy?"

He didn't respond to her pleas. Leaning her forehead against the physical barrier, she stifled a sob with the back of her hand and rattled the handle. '_He's never, never locked me out of his room . . . Not ever---not once_ . . .'

'_Come on, Belle . . . leave him alone for now. Kichiro needs you, too, you know_.'

'_But I can't leave Daddy; not like this_ . . .'

'_Then leave him to someone who can help him. It's time to let go, because you can't hold onto your father and Kichiro, both. Love them both, cherish them both, but you can't live your life for both_.'

'_Someone who can help him?_' Belle sniffled and let go of the handle. '_Gin . . . She'll help him, won't she? Gin_ . . .'

Kissing her fingertips and pressing her hand to the door, Belle forced herself to walk away, back down the hallway and out of the apartment.

Gin answered her door after the first knock. Arms wrapped around a very large red canvas bag, she frowned as Belle hugged her. Dropping the bag to hug Belle back, Gin frowned and shook her head in confusion. "Will you help him? I'm begging you---please."

"Belle? What happened? Where's Cain?"

"He locked me out . . . Gin . . . Daddy . . . he's never . . . I said, but I . . . Please."

"Calm down, okay? Tell me what happened."

Belle sniffled and took the tissue Gin offered from the box on the table beside the door. Drawing a few deep, stuttering breaths, she nodded and swallowed hard. "I hurt him, and I didn't mean to . . . I didn't mean it the way it sounded; honest I didn't."

"What did you say?"

Belle grimaced as tears filled her eyes all over again. "I said I . . . I'm not a little girl anymore. I said . . . I said I didn't need him anymore, but I do. He's my daddy."

"Oh . . . Belle . . ."

"He called me 'Belle' . . . He's never called me that before, and then he said I should go; that I should be with Kichiro. Then he went into his room, and he locked the door. He's _never_ locked me out of his room before."

Gin shook her head and sighed. "I was going to go over and see Kichiro. He looked really bad . . ."

"I'll go," Belle insisted, dabbing her eyes on her damp tissue. "Would you try to talk to Daddy? Could you? He might talk to you."

"Okay," Gin agreed, giving Belle another quick hug. "Take my first aid kit. He probably has one, but I know mine is stocked."

"Thank you, Gin," Belle said as she grabbed the bag strap and hefted it over her shoulder. "Will you tell him something for me?"

Gin nodded.

"Tell him that I . . . I love him."

"I will," Gin agreed.

Belle nodded and, after one last look back, slipped out of the apartment and down the stairs.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin knocked on the closed door, wincing at the raw emotion that reached her even through the stout blockade. "Cain? Cain, will you open the door? It's me . . . It's Gin . . ."

Unsure whether or not he'd comply---unsure what sort of state she'd find him in, Gin blinked in surprise as Cain opened the door; as he stepped back as it swung open. Despite the sadness in his gaze, he smiled at her and shrugged. "Why'd you come?"

Gin lifted her hand to his cheek. "You need me."

Cain pulled away, rubbed his forehead with a trembling hand. "I'm fine."

"That's what your lips say. Your eyes say something entirely different."

He glanced around, stared at the ceiling, eyes bright, red-rimmed, and though she didn't smell any tears, she had to wonder if he'd been crying. "I just keep trying to figure out when it happened, you know? I don't remember noticing that she'd grown up."

"She'll always be your little girl."

"My little girl . . ."

Flinching at the hollow sound of his empty chuckle, Gin drew a deep breath and tried again. "You know, Kich isn't a bad guy. He has a bad habit of running at the mouth, but deep down, he's got a . . . proverbial heart of gold."

Cain sighed as he shuffled over to the window, back straight and proud and somehow broken. Gin pressed her hands to her chest over her heart, and waited for him to speak. "Will he take care of her? Cherish her?"

"He will," Gin assured Cain.

Her answer didn't seem to have the desired effect. Cain sighed softly and shook his head, and for a moment, Gin didn't think he was going to speak again. "I don't remember a time when I didn't have her with me . . . bandaging her cut knees, making her peanut butter sandwiches . . . tying ribbons in her hair, watching her come home with her dresses stained and ruined but the brightest smile on her face. I don't know how not to be her daddy."

"You're _still_ her daddy. You'll always _be_ her daddy. Bellaniece loves you. That's why she couldn't tell you. She was afraid of hurting you."

"I know," he said quietly, his voice raw with pent-up emotion. "I knew she'd . . . grow up, get married . . . I _knew_ it. I just wanted to think it'd take a bit longer. I'm not ready to give her up."

"Cain . . ."

"It's like losing Isabelle all over again. Does that make sense?"

Gin nodded. "It does, in a way, but you're not losing Bellaniece; not really."

"I know."

She winced. She didn't think he really did know that. Then again, maybe she was just too close to Cain to be objective. "She thinks you're mad at her."

Cain shook his head, dug a rumpled pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. "I've never been able to be mad at her. I have to let her go now. She was mine long enough, right?"

Gin took a few tentative steps toward him and stopped, hesitantly reaching out to touch his shoulder. He didn't turn around but he didn't pull away. Gin rubbed his back for a moment before slipping her arms around his waist to hug him. "You sound so final, Cain. You sound so . . . resigned."

Exhaling a breath of smoke that blossomed in the air like a storm cloud only to disperse before the rain could fall, Cain turned around, leaned on the window sill, staring at Gin with an emotion that she couldn't define. "She made her choice. I've got to accept that. It's forever. Mates . . . Mates are forever."

"Yeah," Gin forced herself to say, gazing past Cain out the window at the horizon of buildings. "Forever. That's . . . how it should be."

"I fucked up, Gin. I spent all these years trying to be both father and mother for my daughter. She tells me that she . . . doesn't know how to be a mom. That my fault. I took her mother from her . . ."

"You didn't. You did the best you could. Bellaniece is a wonder girl. She didn't mean that, I'm sure, and Kich . . . I don't know what's going on. He's always loved children."

"That doesn't matter. They don't want pups."

"Your heir," Gin murmured.

"It's not about an heir. Don't you see? Bellaniece has always told me that she wanted a houseful of babies. Not one or two but . . . lots of them. She says your brother doesn't want them. Why would she give up her dream?"

Gin bit her lip and shook her head then shrugged, forcing down her turbulent emotions and smiling wanly as she hoped he couldn't see through it to her heart. "Some things are worth the sacrifice. Sometimes you have to choose."

"The last beautiful thing," he murmured as he crushed out his cigarette butt in the tiny plastic ashtray beside him.

"Hmm?"

Cain brushed her bangs out of her eyes, running his fingertips down her cheek, down her jaw, grasping her chin gently and making her look at him. His smile was enigmatic, full of a bittersweet emotion, a sense of longing that she felt, too. "You're the last beautiful thing in my life, Gin. Are you going to leave me, too?"

"No," she whispered, closing her eyes against the momentary swell of pain that surged through her. "I'm not going anywhere."

He sighed and pulled her into his arms, taking the comfort she offered him as she closed her eyes, as she told herself not to think, as she concentrated on what Cain had said, the things that he needed---and at the moment what he desperately needed was a friend.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Kichiro grunted as conscious thought invaded his blissfully unaware mind. Opening his eyes, he grimaced as his head throbbed to a beat he wished he couldn't feel.

'_Damn, are we dying?_'

Stifling a groan as he forced himself to his hands and knees, Kichiro thought his skull just might explode.

'_That's just wishful thinking. I think Belle's father was trying to kill us_.'

'_Unless you want to die, you'd better shut up_.'

'_Threatening me now?_'

'_No, but the more you talk, the more my head hurts_.'

'_Gotta say, Kich . . . you asked for that beating_.'

'_Maybe I did_,' he admitted as he bit back the bile that rose in his throat as he carefully, painfully pushed himself to his feet. Swaying slightly---or maybe the world was just tilting---Kichiro reached up slowly, touched the back of his head. Grimacing when he felt the matted hair stiff with dried blood plastered to his scalp, he staggered toward the steps. His initial aim had been to make it into the house. For now, he'd settle for the steps . . .

He heard the vehicle but couldn't even summon the strength to turn around. Belle's aura surrounded him, and Kichiro gritted his teeth as the sound of her rapid footfalls echoed through his head. "Kichiro! Oh, God . . . What are you doing out here?"

"Just taking a walk," he ground out.

She shook her head. "That's not even funny. Let me help you."

"You didn't sneak out again, did you?" he demanded, his voice louder than he intended. Unable to stifle the soft groan of pain, he was certain that he probably had a concussion, and his back felt raw, scraped.

"No," she assured him, slipping her arms around his waist to help him up the stairs and into the house. He let go of her in the bedroom, flopping across the bed with a grunt and a hiss of breath. Belle cried out and thumped the bag beside him. "I need to clean your head," she insisted quietly, "and your back. Oh, Kichiro, I'm so sorry . . ."

He could smell her rising hysteria and the tears that lingered near the surface, though he didn't have to open his eyes to verify the truth. "S'okay, Belle."

"No, it's not. If it weren't for me . . ."

"What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go home."

"I did," she said.

"Never listen," he grumbled, gasping as Belle touched a cotton ball dampened with antiseptic on his back. "I need a shower."

"You can't stand up for a shower," she told him. "How about a bath?"

Kichiro snorted. "Feh. Baths are for pups. Let me rest awhile."

"At least let me clean your back. How many times did Daddy hit you?"

"Just the once," Kichiro slurred, struggling to fight back the waves of exhaustion that beckoned him.

"One time? That's not true. Daddy shoved you against the house and tossed you into the yard."

"Incidentals," he grouched. "So he shoved me around a little. He only _hit_ me once. No big deal. I'm fine."

She sighed but didn't talk as she dabbed at his wounds. That was for the best since it took all of his concentration to keep from growling in pain. "Would you mind if I . . . stay with you?"

"What?" he demanded, unsure if his mind was playing tricks on him or not. "What did he do to you? What did he say?" Summoning what was left of his strength, Kichiro tried to sit up.

Belle's hand on his shoulders stopped him, and she took a deep breath before answering. "It wasn't Daddy; it was me. I said some things, and I really hurt him. He told me I should be with you."

"You should be," Kichiro agreed with a heavy dose of bravado that he didn't feel at all. Sighing as the scent of fresh tears assailed him; he rolled onto his side and held out his hand. "Come here, princess. Lay down with me?"

She sniffled and moved the first aid kit onto the floor before crawling onto the bed and carefully stretching out beside him. "I didn't mean the things I said. I really didn't."

"I know. Give him a day or two to get over it."

"I'm so sorry," she murmured, fluttering kisses all over his face. "So sorry . . ."

"What? This? This is nothing," he lied.

Belle winced. "Kichiro . . ."

"I need a nap, wench. Someone kept me up all night."

"I love you."

He smiled, pulling her closer against his chest. "You, too."

"Really?"

"Don't be stupid."

Belle sighed. "Do you think---?"

"Sleep, Belle-chan," he grumbled. "You'll need it."

"I hardly think you're in any condition to do that sort of thing for at least a couple days," she remarked.

"Not that."

"Then what?"

"You've got one month, princess. I've waited long enough, don't you think? You've got one month to plan our wedding."

"Your mother and I have already planned out most of it."

"You don't say."

"If it's okay with you, we could do it sooner . . ."

He chuckled, ignoring the pounding in his head. "Give me a date, wench. I'll be there."

She kissed his cheek and snuggled against him, and while he could still sense her turmoil, she seemed a lot happier. That was enough, wasn't it? So long as Belle wasn't crying . . .

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

… _Belle _…?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	76. Keeping the Peace

**_Chapter 76_**

**_Keeping the Peace

* * *

_**

"So what's the plan?" Gin asked, hopping up onto the worktable behind her.

Cain glanced up from the letter he'd been writing to the regular professor, who would be back Monday. "Oh . . . I was just going to write this and make sure the supplies were all good," he replied quietly.

"Do you need my help?"

"I can handle it, but if you want to stick around . . ."

"I'll miss you, you know . . . my teacher . . ."

"Your teacher."

"My master."

"Master, huh?" he echoed with a wolfish grin. "I like that."

"You're so bad," she said, ducking her chin as her cheeks pinked. "It'll be weird, coming to class and knowing you won't be here."

He glanced over the letter and left it in the middle of the desk before standing up slowly, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he shuffled around it. "Come on, baby girl. We can finish this up quickly enough, and then I'll take you home."

Slipping her hand into his as she hopped off the desk to follow him toward the supply room, Gin laughed softly. "When I signed up for this class, I was just trying to finish up a requisite class. It was . . . remarkable, to have you as a teacher."

"I'm not so remarkable."

"Modest? You know, you're really something. Talented, smart, funny . . ."

"I notice you forgot sexy as hell."

Gin blushed and shrugged. "I didn't say that."

"You don't think I am?"

"I didn't say that, either . . ."

Cain closed the door and slowly turned to face Gin, a hint of a smile lighting the depths of his gaze. "It's fine; I can deal with not being sexy."

"I didn't say you aren't . . ." she hedged.

"You, on the other hand," Cain went on, catching her under her arms and gently setting her atop the worktable. "You're sexy."

"I am?" Gin asked, breath catching in her throat.

"Absolutely."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

She swallowed hard, unable to take her eyes off him. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing? Not a thing, baby girl . . . not a thing . . ." He leaned in closer, one hand on either side of her knees. "You're blushing."

"A-am I?"

He nodded. "You are."

"Cain . . ."

"It just occurred to me . . ."

"What?"

"I've got you completely at my mercy."

"What are you going to do to me?"

He chuckled at her breathless tone. "What do you want me to do with you?" he asked, his voice little more than a whisper as he grazed his fangs over the sensitive skin of her throat.

She shivered, eyes closing as her hands closed around fistfuls of his shirt. "But we're . . . someone could . . . Cain . . .?"

"Then you'd better be quiet."

"I . . . o-okay . . ."

Pulling her toward him, her knees on either side of his hips, he slipped his arms around her, supporting her as she held onto him, her temple resting against his shoulder. He chuckled softly, brushing his lips over her forehead as he hugged her for a moment. "You're bad for me, did you know?"

"How's that?"

He shrugged. "I should be checking supplies."

". . . I could help you with that."

"Sure . . . but I really, really want to kiss you."

"Oh?"

"Uh huh . . . what do you suggest?"

Gin pondered that for a moment. "You could kiss me then check the supplies."

"Or you could kiss me so I don't feel guilty."

She leaned away, biting her lower lip as she stared at him. Gazing at him as she gathered her bravado, she hesitantly lifted her hands to his cheeks, straightening her back as she rose up to pull his face down, lips pressing against his as she sighed.

Entirely too sweet, too inviting, she pressed her body against his as her hands slipped around his neck. The gentle reluctance in her kiss gave way to a quiet sense of longing, a stunning surrender. She felt so alive to him, so vibrant, offering him a peace even as his pulse hammered in his ears. Gin was his reason, his sanity---the last shining beacon of hope . . .

"Gin?"

Cain growled as the soft, feminine voice interrupted the kiss. Gin was too dazed to realize someone was looking for her.

"Cain? What---?"

He pressed his finger to her lips to silence her and shook his head. "Don't panic, but it's your mother."

"My . . .?" Gin's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, no . . . This isn't good . . ."

"Straighten your skirt," Cain remarked as Gin hopped off the table and grabbed the door handle. She grimaced and swiped up her book bag, rummaging through it till she came up with a tiny bottle of perfume. Before Cain could open his mouth to protest, she sprayed herself liberally, dropping the bottle back into the bag as she hurried out of the supply room to intercept her mother.

"Mama! What are you doing here?"

Kagome shot her a curious glance. "I was on my way to meet your father for lunch and thought I'd see if you wanted to join us."

"Lunch?"

Staring over her head, Kagome suddenly smiled. "Zelig-san! Would you care to join us for lunch, as well?"

Gin peered back at him but frowned at the scowl on Cain's face. "I'd love to, but I can't. Today's my last day, so I've got to finish a few things up."

"That's right. I should stay and help," Gin blurted.

"Nope, go right ahead," Cain said a little too nicely.

Gin glanced at him. "If you're sure . . ."

"Oh, positive," he returned pleasantly.

Gin nodded and shrugged but looked like she wanted to argue with him. "All right . . ."

Cain leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. "By all means; go right ahead."

Kagome stared from one to the other and back again before shaking her head and bowing. "Come, Gin. Your father will be pleasantly surprised."

Gin stifled a sigh as she fell into step behind her mother, sparing Cain one last look before leaving the room completely. Still lounging in the doorway with a marked scowl on his face, he intercepted her glance before shoving away from the frame and turning on his heel.

'_He doesn't like that perfume, Gin_.'

'_I know . . . what else can I do?_'

'_Worry about that later, doll. Right now, you need to figure out how to get through lunch with your father_.'

Gin grimaced as she stared at her mother's back. '_Maybe he won't notice_.'

'_Yeah, okay, sure . . . and he won't be breathing, either_.'

Ears flattening for a moment, Gin stifled a sigh. Surely she could explain her way around the perfume with her father. He wasn't really her main concern, anyway.

Cain had been really irritated. She had a feeling that he was the one who was going to ask questions that she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to answer . . .

* * *

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* * *

Kichiro grimaced as he rubbed his face with both hands, loathe to open his eyes. At least his head didn't throb quite so badly, unlike the last couple days.

Groaning as he rolled over and scowled at the empty place beside him, he saw the note lying on Belle's pillow and leaned on his elbow to grab the paper.

_Kichiro_,

_Went to Daddy's to talk to him. I'll meet you for a late lunch. Give me a call to tell me where_.

_Your princess_.

'_Ugh, her daddy_ . . .'

'_You still mad about having your ass handed to you?_'

'_I didn't fight back_,' he grumbled.

'_You should have stopped while you were ahead---no pun intended_.'

"Holy damn, you look like fucking shit, don't you? What happened to you?"

Pinning his twin with as dark a glare as he could muster, Kichiro snorted and rolled his hand to hurry his brother's inevitable teasing. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to laugh at the monkey."

"Yeah, well, get the hell out."

Ryomaru ignored Kichiro's surly reply. "I take it Grabby told her old man about you and her doing the nasty?"

"Something like that," Kichiro allowed.

"How did that happen? So far as I can smell, you and she have had The Sex, but you don't smell like you've mated her . . ."

Kichiro snorted. "Condoms, baka."

"Oh, really? Damn . . . should have figured that out before."

"You wanted to sleep with all those women?"

Grinning like a fool, the older twin shrugged. "Yeah, you're right. Nez was ticked enough when it was just oral sex. Real sex? She'd have neutered me."

"She should have done that, anyway," Kichiro grumbled.

"Yeah, yeah . . . just remember: I'm not the one who got the living shit beat out of me by my future father-in-law." Ryomaru laughed. "Can't say you didn't deserve that. You've been doing his daughter for how long now?"

"How are those cooking classes?" Kichiro asked, changing the subject without any subtlety at all.

"You think I don't realize you're trying to get me to leave?" he countered.

"Is it working?"

Ryomaru grinned. "Classes are going well. Almost done, actually."

"Why are you taking those?" Kichiro demanded.

"Because I'd like to have pups someday."

"Come again?"

Ryomaru snorted and made a face. "Nez said that if neither of us can cook, then we won't be able to feed a pup."

"You with a family? Kami forbid."

"I'd be a kick-ass old man, baby brother."

Kichiro rolled his eyes. "You drive your _cat_ insane. A pup is worse. It can't run away from you."

"Why would it run away? Don't be stupid."

"I'd run away if you were my old man."

"That's why there'd be two of us. Nez would be a good mother."

"I don't have a doubt in the world that Nez would be just fine. You're the one who's bound to fuck up."

"Speaking of fucked up . . . did you even land a hit on Zelig?"

"We were talking about you, baka. You took cooking classes just to get Nez to have a pup with you? Doesn't that tell you something?"

"Like what?"

"Like she thinks that the idea of procreating with you is a bad one."

"So you say; so you say . . . You know, I get along great with Nez's old man. Too bad you can't say the same."

"I don't need to. My father-in-law doesn't want to see me dead."

Kichiro shook his head and flopped back on the bed. "Since you're here . . ."

"What? You want me to beat up Zelig for you? It'll cost you . . ."

"If I wanted to beat up Zelig Cain, I could do it. I just didn't want to."

"Uh huh . . . Does the sun shine in denial, too?"

"Shut up."

"Okay," Ryomaru agreed, his laughter dying away. "What did you call for?"

Kichiro snorted, having forgotten that he'd called his idiot brother the night before to have him stop by this morning. "Oh, yeah . . ."

"So what do you need, baby brother?"

"Will you stop calling me that?"

"What? You don't like being called baby brother, baby brother?"

"No, I don't, fat ass."

"Nez likes my fat ass."

"Yeah, well, Nez didn't get around much."

"Okay, okay. What did you really want?"

Kichiro eyed his brother carefully. Ryomaru seemed anxious, and he had to wonder why. "Expecting someone?"

"Nope . . . Nez doesn't realize I left, though. I'd rather be home before she wakes up."

"Isn't she normally up by now?"

Ryomaru grinned wolfishly. "Normally . . . we were up late last night---well, this morning---having _real_ sex."

"I have real sex," Kichiro shot back.

"No, you don't. You have neat, pristine, clean, _boring_ sex. We have down on the floor, fluids leaking everywhere, slick, slippery _real_ sex . . . you know: the _actual_ thing."

"Why is it that you can make sex sound completely unsavory?"

"It's a gift," Ryomaru stated proudly.

"Or a curse."

"Whatever," Ryomaru shot back. "_Real_ sex, baby brother. You ought to try it. Oh, wait, you can't . . . Grabby's father would kick your ass . . . _again_."

"Ryo, let me ask you something."

"Okay."

"Does Nez put out whenever, wherever?"

Ryomaru snorted. "Of course not."

Kichiro grinned. "Yeah? Well, my mate _does_."

Ryomaru, for once, was speechless.

"Anyway, I wanted to know if you'd be my best man in the wedding."

"Best man? I already am."

Kichiro shook his head. "Baka."

"Sure, sure . . . do I get to kiss the bride?"

"Thought you don't like her."

"Well, it wouldn't be because I like her. If it pissed you off, though . . ."

"Do I get to kiss Nez?"

"And why the hell would you want to do that?"

"I don't know . . . it'd be my wedding. I should be able to kiss all the women."

"Yeah . . . you do that . . . Can't guarantee you'll get to try out the real sex on your wedding night, though . . ."

Kichiro rolled his eyes but grinned. "Then no, you don't get to kiss the bride."

"Fine, fine, take away all the fun . . . Sure, I'll be your best man. I'll also run the betting pool."

"Betting pool?"

"Yep . . . odds are that you and Zelig will come to blows at your wedding. Nez's been wanting a new air compressor. Might as well make some money off your fight, don't you think?"

"Get the hell out, Ryo, you vermin. I'm done with you."

Ryomaru chuckled, but seemed to get serious. "You'll be happy with her?"

Kichiro nodded, wondering what his brother was thinking. "Of course."

"For the record, I really didn't mean to hurt Grabby the other day."

"I know. She's okay."

"Then it's how it should be."

Kichiro grinned. "Yeah, it is."

* * *

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* * *

Cain stuffed the last of Belle's clothes into a box and sighed. Thinking that it would make things easier for her, he had started packing her belongings the day after he'd found out about Belle choosing Dr. Butt-munch as her mate. He'd take all of it over to her later.

'_It is the least I can do_,' he figured. Unsure how else he could show her that he would support her, even if he didn't like her choice, he'd thought maybe this would help.

It felt as though things were coming to an end.

Cain grimaced. Gin had offered to skip lunch with her mother and father, to stay home with him in case he needed her. He had told her not to be ridiculous. He would be fine for a few hours without her, but when she'd sprayed that perfume on . . .

No doubt about it, the idea that Gin was trying to mask his scent . . . that bothered him more than he cared to admit.

'_That's not what's bothering you the most, and you know it_.'

Cain shook his head as he carefully taped the box closed. '_Don't know what you're talking about_.'

'_Yes, you do. It bothers you that today was your last day as Gin's official teacher_.'

With a sigh, he stacked the box atop the other three that contained Belle's things. '_That's stupid. I knew that the position was only temporary_.'

'_What'll we do now, Cain? I mean, sure, we have Bellaniece's wedding. We have to stay for that, but afterward? We can't stay here forever_ . . .'

'_I know. I have to go back home. I have responsibilities there, too_ . . .'

'_And Gin?_'

Cain stopped, grimacing as he glanced around Bellaniece's room for anything he might have missed. '_Gin_ . . .'

'_Yeah, Gin. What about her? Do you really think you can just leave her?_'

'. . . _Maybe she can visit . . . or stay . . . if she wants_ . . .'

'_And you think that would be enough? Vacations? Weekends? Partial custody of your baby girl? It won't be, and you know it_.'

'_I . . . I should have gotten onto that plane. I should have gone right back to Maine_ . . .'

'_Shoulda, woulda, coulda . . . Cain, that doesn't change anything. Maybe we should have left before Gin had a chance to work her magic---before she showed you what living could really be, but would that really change anything? Do you really think Isabelle would have wanted this? Do you think she wanted you to make a promise like that?_'

'_I don't know, damn it. She's not here anymore for me to ask, and that's my fault, isn't it? Now Gin_ . . .'

'_Gin's the most important, right? We can't hurt her_.'

'_No, I can't hurt her_ . . .'

'_What are you going to do?_'

'_I don't know_ . . .'

"Daddy? What are you doing?"

Startled out of his reverie, Cain shook his head and turned around to face his daughter. Standing in the doorway in a flirty lavender sun dress, she scowled at the barren room. "Hey . . . what brings you by?"

Belle shook her head and blinked quickly, clutching her purse in both hands. "You're packing my things?"

"Sure . . . thought it'd make things easier for you."

"Makes things kind of final, doesn't it?"

"Oh, uh, yeah . . . today was my last day at the university. I figured you'd be staying here."

"You're leaving?"

Cain sighed. "Not right away, no . . . be pretty sad if I left before you got married, wouldn't it?"

"We were planning on being married soon."

He nodded. "How soon are we talking?"

Belle shrugged, running a hand over the boxes. "Two weeks from tomorrow. It's going to be in InuYasha's Forest."

Cain made a face. "Ugh . . . I don't like him, either."

"He's a good man, Daddy."

He didn't comment as he sank down on the window sill and looked Bellaniece over. "You look good. You look happy."

"I am."

"And Dr. Shit-for-brains?"

Belle shook her head at her father's insistence on renaming Kichiro. "Well, you knocked him around pretty good."

"Not nearly as good as I wanted to."

"I came over to tell you I'm sorry," Belle said quietly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't," he told her. "You just . . . reminded me of some things I'd forgotten."

"I didn't mean that I don't still need you. I'll always need you. You're my daddy."

"I know, Bellaniece."

Her smile widened into one that closer resembled the expression he was used to. "Why don't you and Gin join us for dinner tonight? Kichiro won't mind---"

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Well, he'll get over it. What do you say?"

"Thanks, but I'll pass."

"Okay," Belle said, trying to hide her disappointment. "You know, Daddy, you didn't have to throw him around quite so much."

"Sure, I did," he complained. "I'm not stupid, you know. I know what sex smells like."

"He didn't shower," she said with a trace of embarrassment but not nearly as much as Cain figured she ought to show.

"Not just on him, Bellaniece. It was all over that house."

Belle grinned. "I told you he makes me happy . . ."

"Ugh, details I don't want or need, thanks," he grumbled. "I want to know the second that little fucker steps out of line. I'll be more than happy to put him back on the straight and narrow . . ."

Belle sighed and glanced at her watch, making a face as she shot Cain a rather hesitant glance. "I've got to go. I promised Kichiro I'd meet him for a late lunch."

Cain smiled and pulled Belle into a hug. "All right. Thanks for stopping by."

She grimaced, and Cain knew that she was thinking about how strange it sounded. He had to admit that it really did. "Daddy . . ."

"Make sure that little shit is good to you, Belle."

She giggled, but it sounded strained, almost sad. "I will. I love you."

"Love you, too, my lady."

Giving him a quick squeeze, Belle held onto him for another moment before letting go. "And make sure Gin is good to you."

Cain felt himself blushing but didn't comment.

"In case you're wondering, Daddy, the condoms work wonderfully."

"Good God, I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Oh, no, Daddy! You _need_ to hear it! Sex is a beautiful thing. You should try it sometime."

"Bellaniece---"

"I know you know what it's like. You're not that old."

"Gee, thanks."

"I bet Gin would love it."

"I'm not hearing this . . ."

"Okay, I'll stop. I'll come by to check on you again." Her impish smile dissipated, and she slowly shook her head. "In all seriousness, Daddy . . . I think Gin's really good for you, and . . . and I think you're good for her, too."

"Do you?"

Belle nodded. "I do, and you know, I don't think just anyone deserves to be with you. You've changed, you know? And it's not a bad thing."

"I haven't changed," he argued, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

"You don't think so?"

"Not at all."

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't let her get away. You need her, and I think she needs you, too."

"Why do you say that?"

Belle shrugged. "Just a feeling."

"Can we talk about something else?"

"Okay, you don't want to discuss your love life with your daughter; I get that . . . but I've seen the way you look at her, and I've seen the way she looks at you. You two . . . complete each other, don't you?" She grinned and quickly kissed his cheek, taking a moment to wipe her lip gloss from his face before she hugged him again. Turning to go, she stopped in the doorway, bestowing an enigmatic little smile on him. "Just think about what I said?"

Cain nodded and watched as his daughter swept out of the room.

Belle's words echoed through his head, words that made more sense than he wanted them to . . . "_You two . . . complete each other_ . . ."

'_We do, don't we? Everything I'm not . . . everything I could never be . . . That's what Gin is. Complete me . . .? Is that what she does?_'

'_You know the answer to that, Cain. Do you really need for me to confirm it?_'

A slow smile surfaced on his face, an image of a silver haired woman with the most luminous golden eyes flashed through his head. '_No_,' he thought absently, gazing out the window as the familiar aura filtered into the apartment before he heard the soft click of the front door being closed. '_No, I don't think I do_ . . .'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Earth to Kagome . . . Oi, are you listening, wench?"

Kagome started and smiled as she lifted her gaze to meet InuYasha's. "Of course I am. What are you barking about now?"

He snorted. "Feh! Barking, my ass . . ."

Lifting the mug of fragrant tea to her lips, Kagome giggled and winked at her mate. "Okay, I'm sorry. You said?"

Nonplussed by Kagome's casual apology, he wrinkled his nose and scowled at her, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest in abject disgruntlement. "I asked if you knew why my pup reeks of perfume," he growled.

"She says she likes it," Kagome remarked. "Anyway, it suits her, I think."

"Feh! Suits her? She smelled fine before that."

Kagome shook her head. "She's a girl, InuYasha. Girls wear perfume sometimes."

"You don't, and you're a girl. Besides, she's hanyou. Hanyous don't wear perfume, either."

"Did she look . . . different to you?"

Kagome's eyebrows rose. "Different?"

"Yeah . . . like she was . . . nervous or something."

"Wouldn't you be nervous if your father whom you adored kept glowering at you like he was about to rake you over the coals?" she asked pointedly.

InuYasha snorted. "Feh! As if I would!"

"Yes, well, you were staring at her."

InuYasha shook his head. "I don't know. Do you get the feeling she's not telling us something?"

Kagome smiled as she set her mug aside and stood up to retrieve InuYasha's cup of ramen out of the microwave. "She's twenty-five, InuYasha. There's not a twenty-five year old woman on earth who tells her parents every single thing going on in their lives."

"She used to," he grumbled.

"Face it, dog-boy. She's just not a baby anymore."

He looked like he wanted to argue that with her. In the end, he snorted and took the chopsticks Kagome handed him. "She'll _always_ be my baby, wench," he informed her.

Kagome tweaked his ear and smiled a little sadly as she regarded InuYasha's back. "Of course she will."

He didn't see the expression as he stirred his ramen.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

_Thanks for the thoughts and well-wishes. Things are slowly getting back to a more normal state around here. Eric's dad is doing as well as can be expected. Hopefully we'll have good new on that soon. Writing is a bit of an outlet for me, and so I'm glad there are others who enjoy my writing. Thanks again, everyone. You make the effort worthwhile. Posting is pretty much touch-and-go for the moment still. I'll post again when I can_.

_Happy birthday, Bad-Mel_!

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

_Stupid perfume _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	77. Bridal Shopping

**_Chapter 77_**

**_Bridal Shopping

* * *

_**

"Cain?"

Looking up from the sculpture he was working on, he didn't smile at her. "Going somewhere?" he asked.

"I was going to meet Sierra and Nezumi to go shopping. Bellaniece's bridal shower is tomorrow and all . . ."

"Oh, right. I must've forgotten . . ."

Biting her lower lip as she watched Cain turn back to the worktable, Gin slowly stepped forward, tentatively slipped her arms around his waist. "I'll miss you."

His hands stilled for a moment before resuming his task. "You sound like you're never coming back. Do I need to worry about that?"

"No, of course not! I'll be back!"

"Good."

"Would you . . . _miss_ me if I didn't?"

"Absolutely. You've grown on me . . . sort of like a fungus . . ."

Gin yanked her arms back as her mouth dropped open in outrage. "You think I'm _fungus?_"

Cain chuckled and turned around hands resting on the table behind him. "Okay . . . not fungus; more like a parasite. Parasites are tinier."

"A . . .?"

"You know, you could always stay here."

"I don't know . . . you called me a parasite . . ."

"Oh, but I meant it in the nicest way."

"There's a nice way to mean that?"

Giggling as Cain nodded slowly, Gin squealed when he reached forward and caught her wrist, pulling her up against his bare chest. "Think they'd notice if you didn't show up?"

Her eyes fluttered closed as Cain leaned down to nuzzle her neck. "Probably."

"You could stay here and . . . distract me."

Feeling the heat of a voracious blush rising in her skin, Gin slipped her hands between them to push herself back. "I think I distracted you enough last night."

He grimaced. "Reminding me of that isn't really going to convince me to let you go."

She ducked her chin but couldn't repress the deepening flush. "If I don't go, I won't have a gift for Bellaniece."

Sighing as he let his arms drop, Cain shook his head in defeat. "All right, if you'd rather spend the day wandering around some store."

"I'll be back, and I promise I'll try to distract you later."

"_Damn_, baby girl . . ."

"You don't want me hanging around all day, anyway. You're working on that, and I'd just drive you crazy."

He pinned her with a dark look that expressed his feelings on the matter. "You're more interesting than a lump of clay."

She hugged him quickly and laughed. "I hope so. I've got to go or I'll be late."

Tilting her chin up, he kissed her gently; a teasing nibble that masked a deeper need. Gin sighed softly and slipped her arms around his neck as he rubbed her back. She wasn't in a rush to end the contact, and he didn't seem to be, either. The lingering brush of lips was a heady thing, and in the end, it was Cain who pulled back with a frustrated growl. "You'd better get going, or I'll forget that you already made plans," he warned.

She stepped back with an unsteady giggle and turned to go, stopping in the bathroom long enough to grab the bottle of perfume and turn it over in her hands.

'_Cain hates that, doll. Can't you forego it, just today?_'

'_I know he does, but I can't. If I did, there'd be too many questions, and_---'

'_But you're meeting Nezumi and Sierra. They won't notice how you smell, you know_.'

She shook her head. '_They wouldn't, maybe, but what if we ran into someone? What if Toga decides to meet Sierra afterward, or even worse, what if Ryo shows up? He'd know for sure, and he'd tell Papa, and Papa would have a fit . . . No, I can't take that chance, can I?_'

Wrapping her fingers around the bottle, she shut off the lights and headed for the front door. Grabbing her purse and rummaging through it to make sure she had her keys, Gin stopped short as Cain strode around the corner into the living room. "Since you're going out---What's that?"

Staring guiltily at the bottle of perfume still clenched in her hand, she shrugged and tried to smile. "It's my perfume."

"Do you have to wear it?"

"Well, yeah . . . I like it."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not. I'm---"

"I'm not stupid, Gin. I know why you're doing it. What I don't know is why you think you have to."

"Cain . . ."

He stepped toward her, holding out his hand, jaw ticking as he fought to control his irritation. "Give it to me."

She grimaced but shook her head. "No."

Did he have to look so hurt? Did he have to look like she'd just slapped him or worse? Cain's eyes narrowed as his gaze bored into her skull. "Is it so awful, that you smell a little like me?"

"No," she whispered, twisting the bottle in her hands. "No, it isn't."

"Then why are you hiding it?"

"You know why."

Cain sighed. "Oh, right. Don't want to upset Papa, do we?"

"No, that's not it. I---"

"You, what?"

She swallowed hard and shrugged. "It smells pretty, don't you think?"

The incredulity in his expression was painful to see. Gin stared at her feet. "No, actually, I don't think it does."

"Well . . . I like it . . ."

He nodded as his scowl deepened. "Never mind. It's fine. You'd better go."

He seemed so far away, so distant. The look on his face---the complete irritation; the unmasked hurt---tore at her. She was doing it for him; to keep everyone else from knowing the truth when that truth wouldn't really change a thing. Didn't he realize that?

Gin opened the door and turned to stare at him before she could manage a thin little smile. "I'll be back."

He forced a smile, too, and hers faltered. "Have fun."

"Okay."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Belle slipped into the apartment and quietly closed the door. Cain was there; she could sense him near. '_His studio_,' she decided as she dropped her purse onto the table and wandered off to locate her father.

Peeking into the quiet room, she grinned as she caught sight of him, hunched over the sculpture he was working on. It'd been a long time since she'd actually been in his studio. She couldn't actually recall being in there since she'd been back from Maine. Watching Cain work was entirely soothing, and Belle felt like a little girl, even if it was only for a moment.

He didn't appear to notice her right away. Belle smiled as she wandered over to touch the solitary painting on the wall. In the dress that Belle had helped Gin choose months ago, her father's skills had rendered the young woman in painstaking detail. Every brushstroke, every line had managed to absorb a part of him, and the end result . . . "Daddy, this is beautiful."

Cain's head snapped around to cast Belle a startled glance. "Oh, yeah. She's something," he agreed.

Belle grinned at the flush that crept up Cain's cheeks but didn't comment on that as she carefully kept her gaze on the painting. "She's really one in a million, as trite and stupid as that sounds."

"She is," he said as a strange brightness sparked to life behind his gaze. "She's . . ."

"Are you going to sell this one?" Belle asked, jerking her head toward the beautiful piece.

He seemed genuinely surprised by her question. "Sell it? No . . . why would I?"

"I don't know . . . you don't usually keep any of your work."

"That one's mine . . . err, Gin's. I painted it for her birthday."

Belle nodded slowly and ducked her head to hide her smile. "If you painted it for Gin, why do you still have it?"

Cain stuttered a bit, rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. "I-I . . . kept it because it was too wet to move. Takes forever for oil paint to dry, you know," he blurted at last. "Must've forgotten to take it to her."

"You need to work on your poker face, Daddy."

"What?"

"You're a really bad liar."

He chuckled almost self-consciously. "Am I?"

Belle nodded. "Anyway, I was on my way to meet Kichiro's mother for the final fitting of my dress. I just wanted to come over and see how you're doing."

Rinsing his hands in the small bucket of water, Cain paused with his hands hovering over it and smiled. "Fine . . . shouldn't I be?"

"Of course you should be! I worry you, you know."

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Besides, don't you have a wedding in a couple days?"

"Even if everything goes wrong there, I'll still be happy," Belle assured Cain. "It's just a ceremony . . ."

"Oh, then you won't mind if I smack Dr. Ignorant around a little."

"Daddy . . ."

He rolled his eyes, drying his hands on a rag towel. "All right; all right. I won't beat on him."

"You know, he really is a lot like you."

"God, don't _say_ that," Cain complained.

Belle giggled. "He is! He's a good man."

The dark scowl Cain shot her stated his opinion on the matter.

"He's kind and gentle . . . he has a good heart."

"I'll take your word for it."

"He makes me feel good about myself," she said as a little grin surfaced. "And I do my best to make sure he feels just as good."

Cain groaned. "I don't want to hear about that," he stated.

"Oh, that reminds me," she exclaimed softly, snapping her fingers. "Were you ever arrested?"

"Arrested? No . . ."

"Not _ever?_"

"Was I supposed to have been?"

Belle shrugged. "I don't know . . . Are you _sure_ you haven't been arrested?"

She thought she saw his cheeks pink before he turned away but wasn't sure. "Yes, I'm sure."

"That's odd. Sesshoumaru implied that you had been."

"When did you talk to him?"

"A few weeks ago. Anyway, no changing the subject. _Were_ you arrested?"

"Weren't you on your way to meet Kagome?"

"Smooth, Daddy. You're trying to put me off, aren't you?"

Cain shrugged. "Is it working?"

Belle sighed. "Okay, fine, but you know that the curiosity is just going to kill me."

"There are some things that daughters don't need to know about their fathers," he explained.

"So you were arrested."

Cain didn't answer.

"Were you the indecent exposure or the lewd and lascivious?"

"Belle . . ."

"You're right. That's a silly question. So what's it like, to be 'exposed' in public?"

Cain's reddened cheeks were more than enough answer, in Belle's opinion. "Yeah, you need to stay away from Sesshoumaru Inutaisho."

Belle laughed. "Who was the lucky girl?"

Cain grimaced. "It was a long time ago. I was about your age. It was stupid."

"Daddy, you dog . . ."

His blush deepened.

Belle checked her watch and sighed. "I've got to go. I'm running late. I'll see you before the wedding?"

"Sure."

"Okay. I'll be the girl in white."

"Be careful."

She kissed his cheek. "Always. That sculpture is looking good. It's Gin, isn't it?"

Cain glanced at the unfinished form on the worktable. "Yeah, it is."

"Have you told her yet? How you feel?"

"How I feel?"

Belle rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, come on, Daddy. You're as transparent as glass."

"I am?"

She nodded. "To everyone else . . . maybe not to her."

"It's not that simple."

Belle clasped Cain's hands in hers and shook her head. "It can be, Daddy. You just have to want it to be."

He sighed. "You think so?"

"Just think about it, okay? She's your cake fairy."

Cain finally smiled, and Belle hugged him. "Yeah, she is."

"So . . . I have to go."

He nodded and leaned against the worktable as he watched her go. She stopped in the doorway and looked back. Cain's eyes looked troubled, but he smiled and lifted his hand when she wiggled her fingers in farewell.

'_He's really over the moon for her, isn't he?_' she thought as she wandered through the quiet apartment.

'_Did you ever doubt that he was?_'

'_No, not really_ . . .'

'_That's never been the question, has it? Your father's always been crazy about Gin_.'

'_Now if she can just make him want to live_ . . .'

'That's a huge 'if', Belle.'

'_Sure, it is_,' she agreed as she stepped out of the apartment and headed for the stairs. '_If anyone can do it, though, Gin can_.'

'_I hope you're right_.'

'_Me, too_.' Belle drew a deep breath. '_Me, too_.'

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"I can't believe you're making me go in here," Nezumi grumbled as she and Gin followed Sierra into the store.

"Well, we are shopping for Belle," Sierra pointed out reasonably. "Anyway, what's the fun of a bridal shower if we don't get her something to make her blush?"

"_Does_ she blush?" Nezumi asked.

"Hmm, good question . . ."

"Why aren't you more embarrassed about being in here?" Nezumi asked dubiously.

Sierra stopped and grinned mischievously. "What? You think this is the first time I've been in this sex store?"

Nezumi rolled her eyes. "Kami . . . I always knew Toga was kinky . . ."

"There's a reason we have four children."

"So long as they don't know you by name," Nezumi grumbled.

Sierra laughed and kept walking.

"Gin? You okay?"

Both women stopped and turned to stare at the third girl who was lagging behind. Gin looked up from the bag in her hands and blinked, eyes darting from Nezumi to Sierra and back again. "Pardon?"

"You've been quiet all day," Nezumi remarked.

"Have I?"

Sierra tucked a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and scowled at Gin. "She's right. You have. Is something wrong?"

"No, no . . ."

Gin quickly whipped around to peruse the shelves, hoping that the girls would drop their current line of questioning. She didn't want to talk about it, not when it made her sad. She was supposed to be shopping for Belle's gift, not worrying about things she couldn't control, like Cain's irritation over the perfume.

'_Maybe the present I got for him will make him feel a little better._'

'_A new paint brush and a couple tubes of oil paints aren't going to go that far in making amends, doll_.'

'_What am I supposed to do? My scent would only raise questions, and Cain . . . he can't answer those questions any better than I can_.'

'_Well, you want him to stay, don't you? You want him to stick around?_'

Gin winced. '_Yeah, I want him to do that. Thing is, I want him to do that for the right reasons, not because Papa overreacted_ . . .'

'_Newsflash for you: if your Papa found out, it wouldn't really be an overreaction, and you know it. The only time you'd start really picking up Cain's scent is if you chose him as your mate, and for that to happen, then Cain's got to do the same thing, too, at least on some level._'

'_But it doesn't matter, does it? It doesn't matter what I want, and really, it doesn't matter what Cain wants, either. He made a promise, and that promise . . . he's honorable. He'll keep his promise, won't he?_'

"Earth to Gin . . ."

Snapping out of her reverie, she blinked and slowly turned to face Sierra and Nezumi. "I'm sorry. I was daydreaming."

Sierra didn't look like she believed Gin's reason, but she shrugged. "Are you sure there's nothing you want to talk about?"

"Oh, I'm fine! Besides, we're here to shop, right?" Grabbing the first thing she saw, Gin held it out toward the girls. "This looks---Eep!" With a gasping squeak, Gin shoved the box of brightly colored condoms back on the shelf.

"Yeah, Belle and Kich won't need those," Nezumi grumbled.

Glancing around a little too late, Gin's eyes widened as she stared in horrified fascination. "This is a . . .?"

Sierra giggled. "A sex store, Gin. Perfect for Kichiro and Belle, don't you think?"

Fingers trembling as they trembled against her lips, Gin shook her head and backed away from the shelf. "I have to get out of here," she whispered, face reddening as she shot both women imploring glances.

"It's not that bad, Gin. This is one of the nicer stores."

Nezumi rolled her eyes. "Spoken from experience," she muttered dryly.

Sierra picked up a penis-shaped sucker and laughed. "Oh, nice! 'Practice Pops . . . Perfect for the inexperienced as well as the professionals,'" she read. "Professionals?"

"Wow, that's just wrong," Nezumi commented, somehow managing not to blush as she stared at the eight-inch lollipop.

Gin pressed her palms against her cheeks but remained silent.

"Oh, look . . . it even has liquid candy inside, too," Sierra commented.

"Well, from what Ryomaru's said, Belle doesn't really need practice doing that . . ."

Gin groaned.

Sierra laughed as she pulled another sucker out of the cardboard stand. "Yeah, but these would be hilarious . . ." Trailing off as she turned to pin Nezumi with a thoughtful stare, Sierra tapped her chin as she considered something. "Hey, Nez . . . how big is Ryomaru?"

Gin's groan shifted into a wheeze.

"Ryomaru? Why?"

Sierra rolled her eyes. "He and Kichiro are identical twins---identical twins, identical penises."

"That's probably true," Nezumi commented slowly as she took the lollipops from Sierra. "Hmm, well . . . I don't know; it's hard to say when there aren't testicles attached."

"Oh, kami," Gin rasped out, whipping around as she stared at the ceiling and willed the others to hurry. "I don't want to talk about the size of my brothers' . . . _things_."

"Okay, then how big is Cain's?" Sierra asked absently.

"C-Cain's? How should I know?" Gin blurted, sure her face was about to explode in flaming color.

Sierra laughed. "Oh, come on, Gin. We're all friends here. _Have_ you seen it?"

Stifling a panicked whimper as Sierra wiggled her eyebrows, Gin shot Nezumi an imploring glance only to find her sister-in-law staring at her in rapt attention. "S-seen it?" Gin choked out.

"She _has!_" Nezumi gasped, eyes widening as she gaped at Gin's horrified expression.

"Oh, God! I was teasing, I swear!" Sierra said. "Gin . . . I'm . . . impressed!"

"Now, Sierra, let's not embarrass her," Nezumi cut in, slipping her arm around Gin's shoulder and stepping back to shield the girl from Sierra's ardent attention.

"You're right," Sierra sighed. "I'm sorry, Gin."

"Thank you."

Nezumi's lip twitched as she stared at Gin. "But since we're on the subject . . . is it . . . bigger than a bread box?"

"Nez!" Gin nearly wailed.

Nezumi laughed and shook her head. "Sorry, Gin. I had to . . ."

Gin just groaned.

"Okay," Sierra said as she checked her watch and made a face. "We'd better hurry. Toga does well with the girls, but he's been alone for awhile, and I know from experience that the twins are a handful . . ."

Relieved that the girls would finally leave her alone, Gin tamped down her embarrassment and tried not to look around the store. She'd already purchased a lovely little silk nightgown for Belle. She wasn't touching a thing in this store; not with a ten-foot pole . . .

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Sorry I was gone so long," Gin apologized as she dropped her purse and keys on the table beside the door and hurried over to kiss Cain's cheek. Setting the lingerie bag on the table, she started toward her bedroom to find some wrapping paper. "We decided to have tea after we got done shopping, and then we were talking . . ."

"What'd you buy Bellaniece?" Cain asked as he eyed the pink bag dubiously.

"Just a nightgown," Gin called back, voice muffled as she rummaged through her closet. "I bought something for you, though . . ."

Cain's eyebrows rose as he considered her statement. "For me?"

"Yes," Gin answered as she emerged from the bedroom with a roll of pale gold foil wrapping paper and another paper bag with raffia handles. "I'm sorry about earlier . . . the perfume."

Cain recognized the logo from a local art supply store and grinned as he accepted the bag. "What is it?"

She rolled her eyes as she set the paper aside and dug the garment box out of the pink bag. Pulling the nightgown out of the box, she held it up for Cain's perusal. "What do you think?"

He eyed the flimsy silk and snorted. "You should have gotten her flannel."

Gin paused with the plastic string that attached the price tag held tight between her hands. She was going to bite through the plastic. Shaking her head, she sighed and snipped the string in her teeth. "Flannel isn't sexy," she commented.

"Yeah," he shot back, "I know."

"Are you going to look and see what I bought for you?"

Cain chuckled and finally opened the bag. Scowling at the contents, he shook it slightly and cleared his throat as his eyes rose to stare at Gin. Having repacked the garment box, she was measuring paper before carefully dragging her index finger claw down the length for a nice, clean cut. "Uh . . . Gin . . .?"

"Is it okay? Not too big?"

Cain's eyebrows rose as his cheeks pinked. "Too big? Are you kidding?"

"Well, I saw it, and I immediately thought of you. You were complaining that yours was all bent and stuff . . ."

"B-bent?" he stuttered indignantly. "_Bent?_"

"Yes, bent and fuzzy and all that."

Cain snorted as his cheeks reddened. "You weren't complaining about fuzziness before," he grumbled.

"I don't mind it," she assured him. "But you have to admit, it's rather hard to work with that way."

"Gin!"

"Hmm?"

"Oh, my God . . ."

"I wasn't sure . . . I think that one is bigger than your old one . . . is that a problem?"

Cain snorted.

Carefully taping the wrapping paper, she didn't see the incredulity on his face. "Anyway, you can throw out the old one, right? I mean, you don't really need it anymore . . ."

"Gin?"

"Yes?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Gin frowned and finally looked up at him when he covered her hands with one of his. "Your present," she explained.

Cain shook his head. "So you wanted to give me everything in that . . . bag?"

"Sure . . . of course I did . . ."

"And you're positive?"

She looked puzzled but nodded slowly. "Yes . . ."

Cain sighed and dug into the bag, pulling out a hideous blue lollipop shaped like a penis. Gin gasped and squeaked out a shocked little noise as her hands flew up to cover her lips. "I didn't---! _No-o-o-o-o-o_ . . ."

"You didn't buy this."

She shook her head vigorously, eyes wide, worried. "Kami, no!"

"Then who did?"

Gin pondered that then suddenly broke into a low growl. "Those girls . . .! Just wait! I'll get them back . . ."

Cain grabbed Gin's arm as she started to stomp away. "Where are you going?"

Gin snorted. "I'm going to call Sierra and Nezumi! _They_ did this!"

He chuckled. "It's not that bad."

"That's what you think," she grumbled, cheeks reddening as she jerked away from the lollipop still in Cain's hand. "Get that away from me!"

Cain glanced at the lollipop and laughed. "What? This? Why? It's just candy, Gin. It won't hurt you."

"It's not candy; it's . . . nasty!" she hissed.

"It's not nasty. It's hard candy," Cain remarked as he read the label and cleared his throat. ". . . With liquid candy inside . . ."

"Oh, that's not even funny, Zelig-sensei!"

"Ouch . . . formalities, Miss Izayoi?"

"You're teasing me," she pouted.

"Gin . . ."

"Yes?"

He nearly laughed at her mulish tone. "Will you eat it?"

"The lollipop?" she squeaked.

He nodded.

"No."

"Why not?"

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, cheeks reddening painfully as she grimaced. "Do you know what it's shaped like?"

"Oh, I think I do."

"Why do you want me to . . . eat that?" she nearly whined.

Cain chuckled again. "I don't know . . . might be . . . a turn-on."

"But you said it was just candy," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "Maybe, but . . . you know what it's shaped like, don't you?"

She looked like she wanted to argue or cry. She did neither. "You'd . . . like . . . it?"

"I think I would, actually . . ."

"W---I---I could . . . I could do that."

Cain strode around the sofa and sat, casually grabbing one of the throw pillows and holding it in his lap as Gin slowly shuffled toward him and sank down beside him. Showing more guts than he could credit, she reached out, face stained deep crimson, and took the lollipop from him.

"It's just candy," she muttered as she unwrapped the sucker. "Not a big deal; just candy."

'_Yeah, that was just a mistake_,' Cain's youkai grouched as Gin stared at the lollipop and slowly flicked out her tongue to taste the tip.

Cain nearly groaned out loud as Gin's expression seemed to brighten. "It tastes pretty good," she remarked grudgingly.

'_Oh,_ hell . . .'

'_Pretty stupid for a tai-youkai, aren't you?_'

'_Yeah, I am,_' he agreed.

Though she didn't look comfortable at all, she did manage a relieved sort of smile as she pulled the candy out of her mouth with an obscene popping sound. She wasn't even trying to pretend that the candy was anything other than what it was. Wrinkling her nose, she made a face as she grimaced. "It's kind of sour," she told him.

"Really," he choked out, clearing his throat a few times as he clutched the pillow against his lap.

"Not so bad, though," she allowed. "You want to try it?"

Leaning away as she held out the glistening lollipop, Cain shook his head and swallowed hard. Gin shrugged and popped the sucker back into her mouth.

'_Holy damn_,' Cain groaned inwardly.

'_You can say that again_ . . .'

'_Yeah_ . . .'

The sudden crack drew a wince from Cain as his mouth dropped open in shock. Unable to control the grimace that encompassed his features, he jerked back and sucked in his breath so sharply that it whistled. "Oh, my _God! Gin!_"

Chewing the bite of candy she'd broken off, she blinked innocently and swallowed a few times before responding. "What?" she asked, moments before biting off another hunk of the candy.

"You _bit_ it!"

"It's candy," she muttered.

"Candy shaped like a penis!"

She wrinkled her nose as her cheeks reddened. "Well, I wouldn't bite one of those."

"I hope not," he grumbled.

Gin started to lean toward him. Cain caught her shoulders and held her off. "Uh, I think you should stay over there."

"But---"

"No way, Gin. Keep your iron-forged teeth over there, thanks."

"Cain!"

He sighed.

"What else did I . . . give you?" Gin asked hesitantly.

Cain considered the edible body paints and condoms he'd seen in that bag and shrugged. After the fiasco with the lollipop did he really want her to know what else was in there? He winced. Maybe he ought to wait till the image of Gin, biting off the head of the sucker waned. "Not a thing," he told her with a sigh. "Just . . . let's just watch a movie or . . . something."

She set what was left of the lollipop on the wrapper on the coffee table and scooted over to cuddle beside him. Cain flipped through the channels until he found a Disney movie to distract her.

Moments later, she was giggling at the antics of an animated llama, and that was just fine with him.

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

**_Final Thought from Cain_**:

… _Ouch _…

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


	78. The Blushing Bride?

**_Chapter 78_**

**_The Blushing Bride?

* * *

_**

Cain lounged in the doorway, watching as Belle pressed her hand to her belly and drew a deep breath, laughing softly at whatever Kelly was saying to her on the cell phone. Despite the clouds that had been hanging low over the forest, the threat of rain had dissipated by noon. Minutes away from walking his daughter down the aisle, so to speak, to hand her over to Kichiro Izayoi for safekeeping, Cain couldn't quite muster the smile that he knew she'd want to see.

"I wish you could be here, Kel . . ." Belle said as a note of wistfulness entered her tone. "I always thought that you'd be my maid of honor."

'_She looks beautiful_,' Cain thought almost sadly. The dress was lovely, of course. Fitting snugly to her waist where the fabric flowed into a wide skirt held out by yards of netting and starched petticoats, she looked every bit the princess she'd always pretended to be.

"Squirrel can't believe that I landed---what did she call him? Ah, yes . . . Dr. Hottie."

Cain snorted at that, and Belle turned to smile at him. "I've got to go. Daddy's here." Flipping the phone closed, she set it on the table and stepped forward to straighten Cain's tie. "You look so nice. Kelly says hi."

"How is she?"

"She's doing well."

"Sorry she couldn't be here."

Belle shrugged as she patted the tie and stepped back, dress rustling in a whisper of fabric. "Me, too. I just can't believe you paid for Moose and Squirrel to come. Thank you, Daddy."

He tried to smile. "Well, if you have to marry Dr. Depravity, you should at least have your friends here to see it."

"Daddy . . . I love him."

He grimaced and heaved a sigh. "I'm sure you do."

She looked upset, and Cain grimaced. "I'm sorry, Bellaniece. If I thought . . ." He shook his head. "Tell me one thing: did you agree not to have children because it was something he wanted?"

Belle couldn't hide the momentary flash of guilt that flickered on her features before she smiled brightly and arched her eyebrows. "We discussed it. I'm fine with it."

"Really."

"I'll be happy with him. You don't have to worry about me."

"And you'll be happy without children?"

Her smile faltered. "Yes."

He sighed and touched her shoulder before stuffing his hands back into his pockets. "You make a beautiful bride."

"I do?"

Cain nodded. "Of course you do."

"Kagome helped me get ready. Do you think . . .?" She trailed off and shook her head with a heavy sigh.

"Do I think, what?"

"Do you think Mother . . . Do you think she knows? Wherever she is?"

Cain smiled a sadly and nodded again. "Yeah, she does . . . She probably thinks Kichiro Izayoi is an ass-monkey, too."

"Daddy!" Belle exclaimed with a shake of her head but laughed. "But he's _my_ ass-monkey, and I adore him."

Cain snorted. "Pfft. I _still_ think he's an ass-monkey."

"Well, I'm about to me Mrs. Ass-Monkey, you know."

Cain made a face. "Oh, I know it. Don't think for a moment that he's not rubbing that in every chance he gets."

Belle giggled. "I love you, Daddy."

"You, too, my lady."

"And it's not like you'll never see me again. I'll see you all the time, right?"

He didn't miss the carefully contrived nonchalance, the slight draw of concern at the corner of her eyes. Despite the smile on her face she seemed sad, a little lost, and he forced a grin that he was far from feeling. "Of course you will."

Her smile wavered, and he sighed inwardly. "We're going to Paris for our honeymoon; did I tell you? Kichiro says it's beautiful this time of year."

"You'll like that. I hear shopping's good there."

"The city of love."

"Good God."

She giggled. "You should take Gin there someday. I'd bet she'd have a fantastic time."

"Belle---"

"The architecture, the Louvre . . . largest museum in the world, right?"

"Right."

Eyes flicking past him to light on the door when the soft knock sounded, signaling that it was time, Belle squeezed Cain's arm and hurriedly turned to check her lip gloss in the full length mirror.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

She nodded, eyes shining as she slipped her hand into his. "I'm sure."

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Cain shrugged but squeezed her trembling fingers. "All right then."

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

The guests were a wash of blurred color and sounds that made little more sense to Belle than the chirping of the birds in the forest. Everything seemed distorted, unnatural. She nearly stumbled. Cain caught her, bracing her with a hand under her elbow. She shot him a grateful smile and hesitated for a moment at the flash of suspect brightness in his gaze.

'_What is it costing Daddy, to do this for me? To give me away?_'

Those questions had tormented Belle for the last few days. Somehow she knew that it was harder on him than he would ever admit, and especially not to her. Sure, Cain smiled and laughed, joked and seemed to be fine. At the rehearsal dinner, he'd been cordial and calm. He even shook Kichiro's hand. Of course, he'd look like he'd rather choke the groom than do it, but at least he'd been personable, which was a far sight better than she could say for Kichiro. He had grumbled for the better part of last night about how much stupid he thought the old superstitions were when Belle had gotten her bag and had informed him that she would be spending last night with her father.

Cain had stayed up late while Belle had reminisced for hours about things long past: dancing in the rain, peanut butter picnics, roasting marshmallows, watching him work . . . Stealing another peek at her father, Belle swallowed hard as mistiness blurred her vision. He looked so melancholy despite the enigmatic little smile on his face, and she knew. Her happiness . . . It was costing her father a lot.

Refreshing her grip on the bouquet of pale lavender roses and lilacs, she tried to brush aside the feeling that her happiness was contingent upon her father's emotions. He didn't want her to know, did he? He'd tried to hide it from her for so long that it had become second nature, and she was the dutiful daughter, allowing him to believe that he'd done a good job of hiding it all from her . . .

The white canvas runner that lined the aisle between the rows of folding wooden chairs was littered with the fragrant petals of lavender roses. The tips of Belle's shoes peeked out from beneath the hem of the billowing satin, and when she lifted her chin, she smiled. Kichiro's bright golden eyes full of unmasked pride beckoned her forward, and on her right side, the hand of her father held her steady. The two men she loved most in the world . . . She had to give up one to be with the other.

Eyes darting to the right, her gaze locked with another pair of golden eyes. Gin smiled as she dabbed at the corner of her eye with a crisp white kerchief. Everything was riding on her, wasn't it? Her father's future . . . her father's desire to live . . . It was all up to Gin now.

'_Come on, Belle . . . this should be the most beautiful day of your life. Don't dwell on things that you can't control. Think of Kichiro. Let Gin take care of your father_.'

Feeling the courage surging through her at the chiding of her youkai voice, Belle lifted her chin, looked back at Kichiro who was waiting so patiently. Today was for him as much as it was for her. Today he'd know, wouldn't he? He'd know that she'd chosen him first, last, best, most.

"Belle-y Button!"

Belle turned her head and winked at Moose. He nodded his approval as she continued her trek down the aisle. The only music was the sound of the late summer breeze in the leaves dancing above. Dappled in sunlight, Kichiro waited, the stark black of his tuxedo made even striking by the startling luster of his silvery hair. Ryomaru leaned toward his brother to whisper something that Belle couldn't hear. Kichiro glanced at his twin and mumbled something that made Ryomaru roll his eyes.

Stopping beside Kichiro with Cain standing between the two of them, Belle smiled as her father kissed her cheek through the veil. Belle squeezed his hand grasped tightly in his.

He finally smiled just a little. "You might be his princess, but you'll always be my lady," he whispered.

Belle blinked furiously to stave back the rising tears. "Thank you, Daddy," she whispered back.

Cain nodded and slowly turned to face Kichiro. "If you ever hurt her, and I swear on everything that is holy, I'll find you, I'll beat you, and I'll leave you for the vultures."

"If I hurt her," Kichiro said slowly, eyes lingering on Cain for a moment before moving to Belle's face and staying there, "I'll let you."

Cain stared at the hanyou, but finally nodded and squeezed Belle's hand one more time before stepping back and nodding at her.

"I hope you got a lot of sleep, princess," Kichiro murmured as Belle slipped her hand into his. "You won't be getting any at all tonight."

Belle grinned and leaned in closer. "Is that a promise?"

"Absolutely."

"You know, I'm not wearing panties," she ventured.

Kichiro stifled a groan as his face contorted into an exaggerated grimace. "Damn it," he hissed.

"Was it something I said?"

He snorted. "Are you _trying_ to kill me, wench?"

She blinked innocently. "You're made of stronger stuff than that."

"Didn't my mother help you get ready?"

She rolled her eyes. "She did."

"Then you're lying," he accused.

"I put them on when your mother was in there, and I took them off after she left," she explained.

Kichiro didn't look impressed as he leaned toward her and sniffed.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking."

"And?" she challenged.

He made a face. "Can't tell. Too much clothing."

She was hard pressed not to laugh at him. "I thought so, too. Tried to get away with leaving off the crinoline, but no such luck."

"I ought to toss you over my shoulder and take you out of here."

"Your mother wouldn't be able to stand the scandal."

"She's endured worse."

Belle giggled. "Then it's a good thing I'm fibbing, isn't it?"

"Are you, really."

Belle sighed. "Do you think anyone would notice if I picked my butt?"

"Damn it . . ."

"Don't you think we'd be missed?" Belle teased.

"They'd wait for us," he drawled. "Can't have a wedding without the bride and groom."

"You really think so?" she asked as wicked light danced in her eyes.

Kichiro groaned as Ryomaru reached over to slap his brother's arm. "Are you gonna do this or not?"

Belle winked at Kichiro and stifled a giggle as her husband-to-be narrowed his gaze at her. "Let's get this over with," he growled.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

Gin glanced around the quiet gathering as she sipped a glass of sparkling water and smoothed her skirt under the edge of the table. Belle and Kichiro were dancing, seemingly unaware of the guests who were watching them with a sense of quiet admiration.

"Weddings are beautiful, aren't they?"

Gin started and whirled around to look up at her mother. "It was lovely," she agreed as Kagome slipped into the vacant chair beside her. "Belle looks . . . fantastic."

"She does, and your brother looks very happy."

"An American wedding . . ." Gin mused with a smile. "I don't think he minded at all," she said, nodding at her brother.

"It's a well-known fact that weddings tend to be more for the women than they are for the men. Bellaniece is American. It stood to reason she'd want to honor her American heritage."

"Like Toga and Sierra's wedding."

"Like Toga and Sierra's wedding," Kagome agreed. "I imagine you'll want a Shinto ceremony when you do it?"

Gin shrugged, setting the water glass into the small condensation ring that had already formed on the white satin table cloth. "I hadn't really thought about that."

Kagome laughed. "Sure, you have. You used to tell me all about it, remember?"

"I guess I did," Gin murmured. "I forgot."

"So where's your friend hiding?"

"Friend?"

Kagome rolled her eyes and leaned in closer. "Zelig-san. I haven't seen him since the wedding ended. Have you?"

"He danced with Belle awhile ago . . ."

Kagome nodded and tucked an errant lock of deep black hair behind her ear. "You know, I'm sure you could dance with him, if you wanted. Your father is convinced that he's harmless enough."

"Harmless?"

"Well, you've said it yourself: he's just your teacher, right?"

Gin couldn't help the tiny frown that furrowed her brow. "Right, right . . . That's right."

"And your friend?" Kagome asked pointedly.

"Oh, well, yeah . . . of course. My . . . friend . . ."

Kagome giggled softly. "Why don't you go find him? I'll bet he could use a friend right now . . . He probably feels like he lost his daughter."

Gin shook her head. "But he didn't; not really."

"Of course he didn't. That doesn't mean he won't feel like he did."

Smiling just a little as she stood up and straightened her dress, Gin skirted around the assembled tables and headed toward the glass doors that led into the Izayoi house, it took a moment for her to become accustomed to the silence inside.

She heard Cain's mumbled talking but didn't see him. Glancing around her childhood home, she finally found him in the loft that her father used as a study. Suspended over the living room by a few thick wooden pillars, the area was open and inviting with a row of sturdy bookcases lining the back wall. As Gin climbed the wide steps, she slowed her pace, not meaning to eavesdrop but unable to stop herself, either.

"Don't be stupid. I know better than anyone, what my obligations are."

Gin's hand tightened on the banister.

"I had to stay for my daughter's wedding, don't you think?" He paused, and she understood. He was talking on his cell phone, wasn't he? "Yeah, she did, and---what?"

She winced as she heard his heavy sigh, could tell from the muffled sound of his voice that he was rubbing his face. "Gin doesn't have anything to do with that. Leave it alone, Ben."

'_I don't have anything to do with . . . what?_'

'_Doll, you shouldn't be eavesdropping. If he doesn't realize you're here, he will soon, and how will that look?_'

Gin bit her lip and forced herself to climb the rest of the stairs.

"She just doesn't. Anyway, if you're done barking at me . . ."

He was facing away from her, staring out the high windows with one hand stuffed into his pocket while the other held the cell phone to his ear. "I'll figure it out; don't worry. Give me a few days to think it over, will you? A week or so . . ."

'_What does he have to figure out? A week . . .?_'

"Yeah, okay, I hear you. Cal Richardson's welcome to try it, if he thinks he can." Cain snorted and shook his head. "You think I care? The day I'm afraid of the likes of him is the day hell freezes over."

"Cain?"

Turning at the sound of her voice, Cain tried to hide the wince on his features before she could see it. "Hold on," he muttered, lowering the cell phone and covering the receiver. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah . . . um . . . I thought maybe . . . you might like to dance . . . with . . . me . . .? Unless you're busy . . ."

He smiled. "I think I could do that. Let me finish up here first."

"Okay," she agreed as Cain uncovered the receiver and lifted the phone to his ear again. "Listen, I have to go. I'll get back to you." Snapping the device closed and stashing it in his inner jacket pocket, he stepped toward Gin and carefully brushed her bangs out of her face. "I didn't get to tell you yet, did I? You look beautiful."

"Do I?"

"You don't know you do?"

She ducked her chin to hide her blush, but Cain chuckled anyway. "No, but . . . It's always nice to hear."

Taking her hand as he trudged down the stairs, Cain couldn't help but grin when Gin peeked up at him. "You sure you want to dance with me? I'm just the father of the bride."

"I could do that . . . I mean, as the sister of the groom, I should make that sacrifice . . . for the good of the reception, of course," she teased back.

Cain laughed. "Wow . . . my baby girl's become a martyr?"

"Well . . ."

"Just for me?"

Gin's smile faltered as he stopped to open the door for her. "Always for you," she whispered as his words echoed through her head.

"_I know better than anyone, what my obligations are. Gin doesn't have anything to do with that_."

He didn't hear her as he led her back into the milling crowd and toward the area that had been cleared for dancing.

* * *

-**_8888888888888888888888888888888888_**-

* * *

"Okay, Izayoi. Raise your hands slowly and step away from the bride."

Kichiro stopped dancing with Belle long enough to peer over his shoulder at the unwelcome intruder. "Been watching American movies again, have you?" he drawled.

Toga shrugged. "Maybe. Then again, your mother's complaining that you've been monopolizing Belle, so you know me . . . Always willing to go that extra mile for my darling Aunt Gome."

"I'm sure Mama understands," Kichiro retorted dryly.

Belle giggled. "Oh, but I want to dance with Toga."

"Really."

She nodded. "I've been dying to." Leaning closer to her new husband but staring at Toga, she laughed. "He's really _hawt_."

The 'hawt' one flushed a lovely shade of crimson as Kichiro kissed his wife's cheek and let go of her. "All right, Toga. Just remember, she's going home with me . . ."

"Yeah, yeah . . . where are you going?" Toga demanded as Belle slipped her hand into his.

Kichiro shrugged. "Where do you think? A wife for a wife, right?"

"Oi!"

Chuckling to himself as he scanned the crowd, nodding at guests he didn't rightfully know, Kichiro spotted Sierra sitting with Nezumi and Ryomaru near the bride and groom's table. Making his way around the outskirts of the guests to sneak up on Sierra, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "So I hear your husband's gone astray."

She laughed and turned to look at Kichiro. "I suppose . . . He's a dog, you know."

"He's a dog-wannabe. Want to see a _real_ dog in action?"

"Yeah, I think we've all seen enough of _that_," Ryomaru snorted. Nezumi smacked his chest to shut him up.

"Jealous much?" Kichiro shot back with an articulately arched eyebrow.

"Absolutely not," Ryomaru bragged. "My wench _enjoys_ pleasing me."

"Not tonight, she won't," Nezumi grumbled as he cheeks reddened.

"Ouch," Kichiro winced. "Sucks to be you."

"She might say that now, but she'll be saying something completely different later."

Kichiro grabbed Sierra's hand and hauled her to her feet. "Let's get out of here, shall we?" he suggested, nodding at the couple who were still debating the issue.

Sierra shook her head then ruined the stern effect by laughing. "Ryomaru goaded Toga into dancing with Belle, you know."

"Toga doesn't like her?"

Sierra waved her hand dismissively as Kichiro pulled her into his arms to dance. "No, he likes her well enough. I think she scares him."

Kichiro laughed. "How is it that you didn't scare him off? Toga's about as shy as they come. He turns the lights off when you're in bed, doesn't he?"

"Nope . . . does that shock you?"

"When you're talking about Toga? Yeah, it does."

"Be nice, dog. He's more adventurous than you'd think," Sierra chided.

Kichiro's response was a pronounced snort. Sierra rolled her eyes.

"You sure you and Toga can't meet us in Paris? Save me from having to spend too much time with that baka brother of mine?"

Sierra sighed. "I wish! As nice as it sounds, I don't think I could stand to be away from the girls that long, and Toga . . . well, they're all such daddy's girls, you know."

"Yeah, but if you were there, I'm sure I could sneak a few minutes to be alone with you . . ."

Sierra laughed. "You're terrible."

"Terrible, no . . . bad? Certainly."

"Anyway, the two of you are supposed to be going on your honeymoon . . . why are Nezumi and Ryomaru going along?"

Kichiro snorted. "Belle thought it'd be fun . . . They're not going to be able to fly in until next weekend, so it's fine."

Sierra sighed as she watched her mate dancing with the bride. "Belle's gorgeous, isn't she?"

"I like to think so."

"I always thought it'd take someone really special to tame you, Kich."

"Yeah, but you picked Toga, remember?" he joked.

She smiled. "Of course I did. He hit my dog. It was only fitting that he should replace him, don't you think?"

Kichiro chuckled. "Absolutely."

Sierra grinned and started to say something but cut herself off as her eyes widened just before she winced. "Oh, that's not good . . ."

"What?"

Following the direction of Sierra's nod, Kichiro turned in time to see Zelig Cain pull Gin into his arms to dance. It wasn't the dancing that bothered him. If that were the only thing, he'd ignore it since there was a good chance that the dancing was Kagome-sanctioned, and not even InuYasha would gainsay her over something like that. No, it was the look on his sister's face that might be the problem. If InuYasha saw just how Gin was staring at the North American tai-youkai, there was a good chance that his wedding would end up being something remembered for completely different reasons, altogether.

"Damn it, does she have to wear her heart on her fucking sleeve?" he growled as he let go of Sierra and glanced around to find his father in the fray. Considering himself lucky for the moment since InuYasha seemed to be deep in discussion with his mother, Kichiro started to head over to intercept the couple when Sierra caught his arm.

"Don't do it," she murmured with a slight shake of her head. "Look at her, Kich. She's happy."

"Yeah, she's happy. She loves that bastard, kami only knows why."

"Can't you let her? You and Ryomaru love her, right? Can't you let her have this?"

He sighed. "I'd leave it alone if she weren't staring at him like he's some sort of Adonis. If the old man sees her---"

Sierra sighed. "All right, but . . . just don't make it ugly, for Gin's sake."

"Damn it, you're as bad as Belle."

Sierra grinned weakly.

Kichiro rubbed his forehead as he glanced around again. There wasn't any other way to break up the dancing aside from cutting in, was there? Considering his feelings toward Cain, there wasn't really a way to avoid unpleasantness on that level, and he'd promised Sierra . . .

'_Think, Kich, think! You're wasting time. If your old man sees Gin's face, all bets are off, and you know it_ . . .'

'_You think I don't know that? What the hell am I supposed to do?_'

Gazing at the musicians hired for the reception, he froze. If there weren't any music, there couldn't be any dancing, right? He sighed. '_Right_ . . .'

'_So you're going to commandeer the poor guy's piano?_'

Striding through the crowd and up onto the small stage that had been set up just for the reception, Kichiro snorted. '_Any better ideas?_'

'. . . _No_ . . .'

'_Yeah, I didn't think so_.'

"Care if I play a song for my new wife?" Kichiro asked quietly.

The leader of the band of musicians grinned. "Certainly not. Do you require accompaniment?"

He shook his head. "No, I've got it covered. Why don't you guys just take a break? Feel free to have some cake or something . . ."

"Thank you."

Painfully aware that everyone was staring at him, Kichiro took his time adjusting a microphone over the piano as the soft rustle of Belle's dress; the click of her heels on the stage came closer. "You're going to play?" she asked quietly.

Straightening his back and glancing over to check on Gin and Cain, he smiled in relief since the two were standing side by side but not speaking. "You going to put out later?"

Belle giggled, her cheeks rosy from the excitement of the day. "Don't I always?"

He sat down on the piano bench and patted the empty space beside him. "Come on, Izayoi-san. Join me?"

Her smile started slowly, lighting the depths of her gaze as it spread over her features with an incandescence, a brilliance, a shimmering radiance that nearly took his breath away. Sometime after the ceremony, she'd removed the veil though she still wore her hair swept up in a configuration of curls that cascaded down her back from under the silly tiara he'd bought her for her birthday months ago. The sparkling stones set in the diamond and amethyst necklace and earrings he'd gotten for her in New York couldn't compare to the simple charm of her smile, and as he stared at her, he knew that in her he'd found his equal, his partner, his mate, and his heart, and his soul.

"Are you going to gaze at me all day or are you going to play a song for me?"

Kichiro grinned and shrugged as he played the scale a few times to warm up. The sounds of the milling crowd faded as Belle leaned toward him to kiss his cheek, and slowly, tentatively, he began to play the one song she would understand.

_**song**_

"I love you," she whispered, brushing away a single tear that trailed down her smiling face as he sat back, pulling his hands away from the keyboard.

"You'd better," he mumbled, cheeks reddening slightly as applause startled him.

She kissed him and giggled, slipping her hand into his. "What do you say we wrap things up here?"

"Oh? In a hurry to get somewhere?" he asked, glancing around to see if the distraction had worked. Much to his relief, Cain was talking to Sesshoumaru while Gin stood on the other side of the crowd with InuYasha.

She grinned. "Well, as nice as this is, I can think of a few things that might be nicer still."

"Really."

"Absolutely."

"It's your day, princess. We can stay as long as you want. I've waited this long."

"I don't want to make you wait anymore," she admitted.

He pulled her to her feet and grinned. "It's okay, Belle. We've got forever, right?"

Her smile widened as a happy blush dusted her cheeks. "Right."

* * *

**_A/N_**:

* * *

'**_She's Got A Way_**' copyright Billy Joel.

**_Special note_**:

_This chapter is dedicated to those who helped to stop a plagiarist. The 'author' in question thought it'd be okay to use my story as well as my character, Kichiro, for her own story and changed Ryo to Kyo (or something similar, or so I've been told), and changed his girl to the daughter of the Chinese tai-youkai … Luckily she only got a chapter done and posted when she chose to remove her story. However, she has not been banned, and is still able to post AND to leave reviews to taunt me that she still has an account. For this reason, I will NOT be updating this fiction on Fanfictionnet, and I have not decided if I will keep my fics hosted on that site or not. Any site that allows a plagiarist to keep their account should be ashamed_.

* * *

**_Final Thought from Kichiro_**:

… _No … panties _…?

* * *

_Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Justification**): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.

_Sue_


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